


Jason and the Three Terrors

by Cdelphiki



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Childhood Trauma, Escape from the League of Assassins, Explicit Language, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd is Not Red Hood, Jason likes to cuss, Minor Character Death, Recovery, Resurrected Jason Todd, Thats the only reason for T rating, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 62,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22328314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdelphiki/pseuds/Cdelphiki
Summary: One moment, Jason was peacefully sleeping, perfectly content with his life with the League of Assassins.  Okay, so maybe notcontentcontent, but he wasn't unhappy, either.  Then Talia woke him up at 2 am, threw three children at him, and told him to get them to America and far away from Ra's al Ghul.What the fuck.The last thing he wanted was to see Bruce. But with three brats relying on him and no Talia, there weren't many options for sanctuary. He just didn't expect the kids to grow on him so much in two short weeks.
Relationships: Athanasia al Ghul & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Mara al Ghul & Jason Todd
Comments: 1035
Kudos: 2759
Collections: Most Favs





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said:  
> AU concept I'll probably never do anything with, Jason becomes guardian of Damian, Athanasia and Mara after enemies of the league kill and destroy Talia's body so she can't be resurrected. They are the Head family (Talia Head is an alias for Talia) who live in Metropolis. Batman has no idea because Jason never had the chance to do the Under the Red Hood stuff. But Jason still feels betrayed and hurt by Bruce, so vows to keep the kids away, no matter how hard life gets!
> 
> I strayed from the prompt, a little, and the project quickly ballooned to over 100k words.... It's probably going to be about 150k, if I have to guess. But we'll see where it goes.

Talia’s head was spinning.

She’d known this day would come. Ever since she’d come up with the idea nearly 8 years ago.

Honestly, she was surprised it lasted as long as it did.

How no one had heard the sounds of an infant crying the dozens of times she’d been unable to shush Athanasia, she wasn't sure. Those days were terrifying, but the sheer panic she had felt every time footsteps approached the door to her personal quarters after any such episode was nothing compared to what she felt now.

The rush of blood was pounding through her head, nearly deafening her. Making her fingers go numb. Her heart clench. Her face feel cold. Her body shake.

It was all she could do to remain standing. To prevent any of it from showing.

Because, somehow, her father had found out.

“You thought you could hide a granddaughter from me,” Ra’s was saying, but she was barely listening.

She’d known this day was coming.

Athanasia was seven now. She was not a helpless infant. Talia had half a dozen extraction plans, and twice as many escape plans.

“I have no need for two granddaughters,” Ra’s said and Talia resisted the urge to suck in a deep breath. To _scream_ at her father. To cry out in anguish. Instead, she focused on steeling herself, as she went through every plan.

“I will give the girl a chance to prove herself,” he continued, smiling like he were being _kind,_ “Bring her to me at dawn. She shall face the daughter of the White Ghost in combat.”

 _To the death,_ he meant.

Talia closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. “Of course, Father,” she said, her tone flat and uninterested. Like the entire charade were a mere inconvenience to her.

It made her sick.

Talia didn’t have any real affection for her brother’s child, the girl called Mara. She was so cruel to Damian, but Ra’s had been training her just as long as he’d been training Damian. The idea he would just throw her aside for an untrained child…

She’d have to include Mara in the plans. It would be cruel not to.

Not difficult. She already had fake papers for her, of course, but it severely limited them.

Jason would have to be involved, as well, of course.

Father had already made it clear he would rather execute Jason and send the head to Bruce as a momento of the last time they’d faced each other in battle. But Talia had argued that Jason could be useful.

He _would_ be useful. Now. He was well trained with a heart for children. Really, a heart for the innocent, and her children were innocent. He’d protect Athanasia and Damian with his life. And Mara, she supposed.

“You have disappointed me, daughter. Do not allow it to happen again.”

“Yes, Father,” Talia said, kneeling down to dip her head toward her father.

It would not happen again.

Her and her children would be long gone from the compound by dawn. If she had to bring them to Batman himself for protection, she would.

That would be exactly what Ra’s expected, however, so perhaps they could pick a nice quiet cottage in the French countryside. Or a flat in London. Or an apartment in New York City.

Wherever they went, it would be far away from Ra’s and his reach.

Talia went back to her quarters as soon as Ra’s dismissed her. She was expected to prepare Athanasia for her battle in 9 hours. Instead, she was going to prepare all the children to leave. And somehow keep from tipping off her father.

Athanasia was right where she’d left her, an hour previous, when she’d been summoned to Ra’s. She had debated hiding her, but not once in the girl’s seven years of life had anyone _actually_ entered her quarters while she was away.

And Athanasia always looked so peaceful while sleeping. Talia loathed to wake her, only to sow a seed of panic.

She sat on the bed they shared and ran a hand through Attie’s long locks. The resemblance she held to her infant self—to that of Damian—always took Talia’s breath away. To be reminded of the child Damian had been, before her father forced training on him, was painful. But to remember the child Athanasia _was._ The happy, sweet child.

Talia had always wanted a daughter. She had been creating Attie already when she realized her father would never allow her to have Damian. With her only choices being abandon Damian or keep Athanasia hidden, she hadn’t seen much of an option.

Sure, Bruce would have harbored her, no questions asked. Especially back then, so soon after their relationship. Her refusal to leave the League had been exactly why they broke up. Had she just left, and brought along their daughter, she was sure he would have welcomed them with open arms.

But Talia could not bring herself to abandon her son.

So she remained. She remained, and she taught Athanasia how to be quiet. How to be quiet and hidden. How to defend herself silently. She was good, but she was no where near as good as Damian or Mara. Her skills were that of self-defense. Born of necessity. She would not last thirty seconds against Mara, and Talia wouldn’t have it any other way.

No child deserved the training Ra’s forced on Damian or Mara.

Or on herself.

“Wake up, my princess,” she whispered, patting at Attie’s face, “we must prepare.”

“What, Mama?” her sleepy voice replied, as she dramatically stretched and rubbed her eyes.

“We are leaving,” Talia whispered, “we must prepare.”

Athanasia sat up and blinked at Talia, clearly struggling with herself to fully wake. “Where are we going?”

“Away, my love,” she said, leaning forward to kiss Attie on the forehead, “With your brother.”

She perked up at that, instantly awake as she asked, “Can I meet him this time?”

“Yes, darling. You will meet him.”

That set Attie off, as she bounced off the bed and to the closet where her things were hidden behind a false wall. It was her safe room, where she hid while Talia was away for any length of time. Or when people were over at her quarters.

The thought of Attie having her own bedroom with her own things proudly displayed, out in the open, brought a smile to Talia’s face.

Perhaps they should have run years ago.

“Do you think he’ll like me?” Athanasia asked, smiling as she changed into the traditional robes of the League. Some Talia had snatched of Mara’s, from when she’d grown out of them.

“Of course, my dear,” she said, standing to help her daughter pull together her belongings and pack them into her bag, “He will love you.”

“Can I meet him now?” she asked, as she zipped up her bag with Talia’s help, “I’m ready.”

“Not yet,” Talia said, placing her hands on Attie’s shoulders and kneeling down, “First, you must hide while I prepare the others.”

Athanasia’s face fell, but she asked, “Others?”

“Yes. Damian and your cousin, Mara.” When Attie nodded, Talia continued, “I will return for you soon, or send someone for you. Do not come out for anyone but me or Jason.”

“Who is Jason?” Athanasia asked, her anxiety at the idea of a new person not at all masked on her face. It was one of the many things Talia loved about Attie. She actually showed her emotions, even if she knew how to experience them silently.

“Jason is…” Talia started, then paused for a second, “he is your half-brother.”

“I have another brother?” she whispered, in awe as a smile grew, “Why have you not mentioned him?”

“He is your father’s son, not mine. But he is kind, and he will help us leave.”

“Will we meet Father, too?”

“No, darling,” Talia said, planting one last kiss into her hair, “Not this time. Now hide and I will see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mama,” Athanasia said, backing up into her hiding spot and sitting down. Talia shut the false wall in front of her and took a deep breath.

It was going to be a _long_ night. But tomorrow? Next week? It will all have been worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I have the first 40k words of this written, and so far have five chapters ready to go. (and about 5 more that need to be revised and can then be called done.). That gets me to near the end of part one of this three part fic. 
> 
> Right now, I can promise you biweekly updates, which should get me past my upcoming move and then give me time to hopefully keep up and continue writing/posting beyond that. We'll see how well I can juggle it alongside my other project, the Tim & Cass fic I promised as a sequel to _Precedent._ I really love this story and I'm very excited to share it with everyone. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought! I LOVE comments, but I'm awful at responding to them, so I'm sorry about that. But I promise I read each and every one at least 3 times each. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	2. Chapter One

Jason was awake the moment his bedroom door opened. 

Sitting up, ready to defend himself, awake. 

He kind of _really_ hated being tested randomly, but like hell was he going to let some idiot get the best of him, either. 

But, for once, his vigilance wasn’t necessary. Because the person who so rudely barged into his room in the middle of the night was Talia Al Ghul. And Jason was pretty confident she wouldn’t attack him. 

No. Instead, all she did was throw a mostly packed duffle bag at him and start furiously digging through his meager possessions kept in the wardrobe.

“Ugh,” Jason groaned, flopping back on the bed and hiding his face under a pillow, “Can’t we do whatever this is in the morning?” 

He was fine with being shipped off to yet another trainer. It was what he wanted, after all. The training. But did it _really_ have to happen at 2 in the morning?

“Get up,” she hissed, shoving something into the bag that was laying on top of his feet, “we haven’t time for your dramatics.”

Maybe it was the tone of her voice, or the ferocity at which she was throwing Jason’s clothes at his bed, but something made Jason sit straight up and stare at Talia. “What’s going on?”

“Get dressed,” she snapped, and yep. It was the voice. 

Because Talia sounded…. Scared.

She had that protective fierceness about her, the one he’d only ever seen on the streets in Gotham. When muggers were picking on single women with children. Fathers with young children. And…. Bruce… with him. A few times. Back before he let Jason die, then replaced him with a better Robin. 

Not the point. 

Talia was afraid. Afraid and desperate. And Jason couldn’t help but listen. 

He got dressed in about three seconds flat, then helped her finish loading up his bag before slipping on his boots. 

“We have to go,” she said, shoving the bag at him, “the children are already packed. We must leave immediately.” 

“Children?” Jason asked, whispering harshly. 

“Yes.”

All Jason could do was blink, as he followed her out into the corridor, allowing her to keep lookout for who, he didn’t even know. Because he had _no idea_ who Talia was talking about. He had never seen another kid anywhere as long as he’d been with the League. 

Which, granted, it had been barely a year since he ‘woke up’ in that damn pit. But still. There were no kids, as far as he knew. 

“What children, Talia?”

 _“My_ children,” she snapped, shooting him such a withering glare that normally would have caused him to sit down and shut up. 

But Jason was going to blame his confusion on being woken so suddenly. “Wait,” he said, stopping in his tracks, even though Talia had a hold of his wrist and was dragging him along, “you have kids?”

“Yes,” she whispered harshly, “And they are in danger. We haven’t time for this. _Keep moving._ ”

There were so many questions swirling around Jason’s head. How many children? How old were they? What were their names? Why had Jason never met them? Or even _heard_ of them? But for some dumb reason, the only question that made it out of his mouth was, “Who’s the father?”

Talia’s glare turned vicious, and Jason knew that was so not the question she wanted to answer at that moment.

Which also answered the question for him.

Because she always got into a mood when he came up, in any context. 

“We are not going to him,” Jason snapped, because if that was Talia’s plan, Jason would not go along. He’d help Talia get whatever kids out, because, hello, the were just children. But that was it. He’d go his own separate way, after. 

“No,” she agreed, “but we must leave.” She jumped, slightly as a door slammed open somewhere down the next corridor, and Jason saw as she turned from frightened to downright determined. 

“There is no time,” she said, pointing down the opposite corridor, “Turn left, then right, then fourth door on the left. Get Mara.”

“Mara,” he whispered, nodding his head. A daughter. Cool. Bruce’s daughter. 

He so couldn’t do this.

Another door slamming pushed Jason forward. From the sounds of it, it was his door, just around the corner. They were running out of time. 

“Meet me by the cliff you like to frequent,” Talia whispered frantically, and Jason nodded. 

Get Mara.

Meet by the cliff.

Don’t think about Bruce.

He could _totally_ do this. 

Jason swore as he ducked around the corner, listening to the footsteps stomping through the building. For a cult obsessed with being ninjas, whoever this dude was they were avoiding was pretty damn loud. 

Almost like he wanted them to know he was coming. 

_Left then right,_ Jason reminded himself, trying not to think about his unknown enemy. 

_One door, two doors, three doors…_

He quietly cracked the fourth door open and slipped inside, then immediately had to duck. Because the occupant had thrown a dagger at him.

“Shit, can you not?” he snapped, whisper shouting as he put his guard up, “I’m already stressed as fuck as it is. I don’t need _this.”_

It was only after he took a breath did he take in the ridiculous little girl, crouched low, standing on her bed. Her hair was sticking out every which way, a red streak prominently hanging right over her eyes. How the hell she could even _see_ was beyond Jason.

“What do you want?” she hissed, in English, which was such a fucking Godsend, because his Arabic was okay, but he was a little high strung and it’s hard to think when he was like that. And he definitely needed to think to speak Arabic. 

When the girl pulled another dagger out of her waistband, Jason snapped, “I’m not here to _hurt_ you.Talia told me to get you and get out.”

“Lady Talia,” Mara asked, because Jason was just going to assume this was Mara. He supposed it could be a different child, but it’s not like kids were _common_ in the League. Jason had thought he was the only one. And yet, apparently there were at least two other fucking kids he didn’t even know about. 

But coincidences were stupid and Jason didn’t believe in them. Talia said this was Mara’s room, so this had to be Mara.

She didn’t look anything like Bruce, though. Jason could see a bit of Talia in her. More of Ra’s, for sure. But nothing to hint she was Bruce’s.

Maybe he’d misread Talia?

Or maybe Mara just lucked out in the roulette wheel of genetics, and got all of the Talia and none of the Bruce. 

That was certainly possible.

“Yes,” Jason whispered, “That is what I said. She told me to get you and bring you to her.”

“Why?” Mara asked, her eyes so narrow, Jason was surprised she could see anything at all. Her demand to know every detail and make her own decisions was definitely a Bruce thing.

“I don’t know,” Jason huffed, “she woke me up throwing shit around demanding I help her save her children. She said you were already packed. Did she lie?”

Mara blinked, seemingly dumbfounded by what Jason had said. It took her a good two seconds to recover, because she asked in sheer disbelief, “And she sent you after _me?”_

“ _Yes,_ Mara,” Jason exasperated, “Do you have a bag? We need to _go.”_

After hesitating a second longer, Mara jumped down off her bed and pulled a backpack from under it, then slowly stepped closer to Jason.

“Who are you?” she asked, raising one eyebrow at Jason, as if her skepticism could make Jason spill the beans and admit he was actually an assassin there to kill her, “One of Lady Talia’s servants?”

Fuck no.

“Jason Todd, at your service,” he bit out, “now grab your shoes and _let’s go.”_

“Where are we going?” she asked as she slipped on her boots. Jason ignored her in favor of listening to the hall outside. He needed to determine whether it was safe out there. 

He had _no idea_ who it was he was running from. The League, he was going to assume. Why else would they be escaping in the middle of the night, in secret? If not to escape the League itself?

But who could he trust? Probably no one. But who could he distrust less? Did every guard and assassin pose a threat to them? Jason knew how to get off the compound without encountering a single guard, of course, but that assumed security hadn’t been heightened. 

Something had to have set Talia off, right? Triggered all this?

Who the hell was actively chasing them?

Jason grabbed Mara’s wrist and dragged her out of the room as soon as she was ready and said, “Hell if I know. Now pipe down.”

Mara yanked her arm away, even as she continued following Jason. “Do _not_ touch me, peasant.” 

“Sor-ry your majesty,” he whispered, straining to hear. He could hear a scuffle down that hall, so he turned the other way. Hopefully it wasn’t Talia. Jason knew she could fend for herself, but he had no idea how old the other kid was. Or kids. He had no idea how many more children there were, either. If Talia was carrying a baby or toddler, fighting would be difficult. 

“Come on,” he told Mara, “Out the back.”

“I am not going anywhere with you.” She planted her feet, nearly stomping one of them, and Jason dreaded having to hoist her up and drag her, kicking and screaming. 

That was not going to be quiet. 

And he’d probably get stabbed a time or two for his efforts.

“Listen,” he whispered, kneeling down and not putting his hands on her shoulders, just barely, “I don’t know what’s going on, _either._ But Lady Talia was _afraid._ Of what, I have no idea. But she said you kids are in danger, and we have to get out of here. She told me to come get you and bring you to her.”

Mara faltered and looked at Jason, uneasy. “She really sent you to protect me?”

 _“Yes._ And you’re making it exceptionally difficult. So _come on.”_

With a single nod, Mara followed behind. And somehow, they managed to slip out of the building without running into anyone. Not even a guard. Which was just making Jason more wary. 

He decided their best bet for getting outside the compound was by scaling one of the walls. He chose one, on the far side, as far away from any of the guarded entrances as he could. 

But just as they slipped out from behind one building to run behind another, they finally found where some of those missing guards were.

“Fuck,” he said, side stepping a sword as it swung at him. He backflipped to avoid another guard lunging at him and used the momentum to land on the third’s shoulders and knock him off balance. He bashed the hilt of his sword against the guy’s skull, effectively knocking him out. 

Killing these guys was not something he wanted to do. It wasn’t their fault, after all. And Jason had no idea if they were actually on opposite sides. This could all just be one big misunderstanding. 

Mara drew her own sword and lunged at one of the remaining two, so Jason went for the final one. 

“Don’t kill them,” he said, as he watched Mara take a rather risky move, her sword swinging right for her opponent’s neck.

“What?” she hissed, “Why not?”

“They’re just servants, they aren’t our enemy.” 

“Hmph,” she huffed, leaping out of the way of a lunge before she retaliated with her own move, “This is ridiculous.” 

Jason’s guy managed to back him up against the wall, so Jason used it to jump up and over the servant’s head, grabbing hold of the collar of the guy’s robe as he went, bringing him down to the ground. With another quick blow to that one’s head, they were down to just Mara’s opponent.

She was good, Jason could tell. Despite her size, she knew how to wield a sword effectively, and was easily holding her own against the highly trained guardsman. 

But she clearly had no idea how to fight without killing. Jason pulled a knife from his belt, one with a sheath, and threw it at the man. 

The butt of the knife hit him square in the temple, sending him toppling over instantly. Jason retrieved his knife and grabbed Mara’s hand to drag her along to their destination. Because there was _no way_ no one had heard that scuffle. 

“I had him,” she snarled, snatching her hand away from Jason, “I did not require your assistance.”

“Yeah, I believe you. Running low on time here, though.”

“Why did they attack us in the first place?” she asked, her voice only slightly lowered. It was kind of pissing Jason off. They needed _stealth_ here. For the child of a cult obsessed with being shadows, this little girl could be fucking loud. 

“Less talking, more running.” 

Mara sighed loudly, but thankfully _did_ shut the fuck up. 

At the wall, Jason quickly hoisted Mara up and over, then tossed both their bags after her. She seemed only slightly reluctant to leave the compound, but clearly they weren’t safe inside anymore, so Jason guessed that’s why she didn’t give him more lip over it. Jason just hoped Talia would be at the cliff to explain to her kid what the fuck was happening.

He backed up several long strides, so he could get a good running start at the wall. Just as he was about to run, he heard the sound of quiet feet on gravel headed in his direction. As quickly and quietly as he could, he ran at the wall and propelled himself up and over, then landed gracefully next to Mara. 

“Why did those servants attack us?” Mara demanded, her arms crossed when she should have been admiring how sick Jason’s landing was, “Are we defecting? Because I do not wish to defect.”

“Fuck if I know,” he said, grabbing his bag and shoving hers back at her, since she hadn’t even bothered to pick them up from where they landed. 

“That is not an acceptable answer!” 

“I’m sorry but I don’t fucking know,” he snapped, as quietly as he could while directing her away from the wall. Where sound most certainly could travel across. And, like, _reveal their location._

When, after they’d gone about fifteen yards further down the hill, away from the compound, Mara planted her feet and refused to move any further, Jason growled and turned to face her. “Talia woke me up, threw a bag at me, and told me to come get you. That’s all the information I have.” 

Mara narrowed her eyes, so Jason just groaned and ran his hand over his face. 

Talia owed him so much for this.

“Talia will meet us out by the cliff,” Jason added, hoping the promise of seeing Talia would calm Mara. Maybe. Just a little? _Please?_

But of course it didn’t. Just made her more suspicious. “You keep calling her that.”

“What?” he asked, because now he was just lost. Kept calling her what? Talia? That was her fucking name. He wasn’t gonna go calling her mom like this girl probably did. Or mother. Talia seemed like the kind of woman who would teach her children to call her ‘mother.’ 

“It is disrespectful. I do not believe she would allow a servant to address her as such.”

Kid or not, Jason just wanted to smack her now. Yep. Smacking her would be fun. If the other kid or kids were just like Mara, Jason would have to learn more restraint than he already had to prevent from actually smacking children. 

Child abuse. Bad.

“I’m _not_ one of her servants.”

Fear flashed across Mara’s face, quickly replaced by skepticism. She took a step back and grasped onto the hilt of her sword as she asked, “Then what are you?” 

Jason threw his hands up, hoping to convey that he wasn’t gonna fucking hurt her. 

“I’m— I don’t know” _her lover’s charity case? Her enemy’s former partner?_ “Her project? Protégée? Something like that. She trains me.”

“Why have I never heard of you?” 

“I don’t know,” he exasperated, “Why have I never heard of _you?_ I thought I was the only kid in this entire damn compound, but come find out there’s at least two of you.” 

“Everyone knows about Damian and me,” she said, narrowing her eyes again, and shit they didn’t have time for this. 

But also, great. Now he had a name. Damian. Probably a boy. Bruce’s son. Fantastic…

“Well Talia didn’t think I needed to know, apparently, can wego now?”

“I don’t trust you,” she said, still not moving. And if glares could kill, Jason would be toast.

“Great. Thanks for telling me, I could fucking tell. Now can we _please_ go to the cliff? If you don’t like what _Lady_ Talia has to say, then you can come back, okay? I don’t give a fuck what you do, as long as you come to the cliff with me to meet Talia.” 

After a moment of contemplation, Mara relaxed and rolled her head. “Fine. But if we are defecting, I will have nothing to do with it. I will turn you all in to Grandfather for your insubordination.”

“Fantastic,” he mumbled, finally turning back around to lead her toward his and Talia’s cliff. It was about a fifteen minute hike, down and around the mountain on which Nanda Parbat sat. They would, thankfully, be out of sight from the compound walls within a couple minutes. 

Mara’s steps behind him weren’t quite silent. Not with the slight crunch of snow under her boots. It was summer, but with as high in the mountains they were, there was never not snow on the ground.

It was rather tiring, in all honesty. Never having a break from the cold. But at least they weren’t in a hot desert, he always reminded himself. There was plenty of water around him, if he had to escape. If he had to run. And, thankfully, Talia had provided him with warm enough clothing that he didn’t usually have a problem. Besides, it would only be a days hike before they were low enough to feel the summer heat. 

He hoped that wasn’t what they were about to do. Because hiking through the mountains of Afghanistan with few provisions was not on his bucket list. No sir. No thank you. Especially not with a couple brats, assuming Damian was just as bad as Mara. 

But whatever was going on, Jason had a feeling it was _bad._


	3. Chapter Two

Mara was blissfully silent the rest of the trek to the cliff. Her blatant distrust and outright _snobbery_ was not, at all, helping Jason’s already frayed nerves. 

This whole whatever was going on better not last too long. Jason would gladly help Talia get the kiddos to safety somewhere, just as long as that was it. He wanted to go back to training as soon as possible, or whatever. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, in all honesty. Training was at least _productive._

When they finally reached the cliff, Jason was annoyed to see Talia hadn’t beaten him there. The fact that she wasn’t there was extra annoying, too, because the boy _was._ And he didn’t look any happier than Mara was to be woken in the middle of the night.

Damian, Jason presumed, was sitting on his backpack. He started glaring at Mara the second the two of them turned the corner, around some rocks, and came into view. Jason kind of wanted to nope it right out of there. Have nothing to do with any of this.

“Tt,” the kid huffed, as he stood and crossed his arms to address Mara, “What are you doing here?”

And holy guacamole Jason could _definitely_ see the Bruce in this kid. He was the spitting fucking image of Bruce Wayne. The only thing Talia about this kid was his eyes. And his complexion. 

“Lady Talia summoned me,” Mara responded, stopping about fifteen feet away from Damian. Jason paused with her, although he wasn’t sure why, but he figured the brat knew her brother way better than Jason did. Considering Jason didn’t know him at all. 

Both kids rested hands on the hilts of their swords, and Jason groaned internally. They weren’t going to get violent, were they?

Holy-sibling-rivalry, Batman. 

“My mother asked me to meet her here, of course. Why she would summon _you_ is beyond me,” Damian said, all but sticking his little snot nose right up in the air. 

“You must be the servant Mother mentioned,” Damian added, turning his gaze to Jason as he looked Jason up and down before rolling his eyes, “You don’t look like much.”

And yep. Jason was gonna have to work on that not-smacking-children thing. 

“I am _not_ a servant, you little brat,” Jason said, taking his bag off and dropping it on the ground, so he could sit on it, “And that’s no way to speak to your sister.”

“This bastard is not my sister,” Damian declared, at the same time Mara said, “I am not his sister.”

“Wait, what?” Jason said, completely thrown now.

What the fuck did that even mean? If Mara wasn’t his sister, then what _was_ she? And why did Talia call her one of her ‘children?’ 

It would make sense, though… Since Mara looked nothing like Bruce. Jason would believe Mara and Damian were related, but even then it was kind of stretching it. That had far more to do with her complexion. And eyes. 

The only two things Damian had from Talia….

Jason would easily believe half-sister. But then they wouldn’t have agreed on ‘not’ sister. 

So what the fuck was Mara?

“I said, this bastard is _not_ my sister, why would you assume-”

“Why are you being an asshole?” Jason interrupted, because sister or not, that was no way to speak about the little girl. “I think you owe her an apology.”

“You watch your tongue, peasant,” Damian growled, scowling at Jason and absolutely not apologizing to Mara, “You will not order me around.”

Oh boy.

“Are you both gonna call me peasant? Cause that’s just rude.” 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, drawing his sword, “I will not be insulted by one of Mother’s servants.”

Jason hopped up and further away from Damian while he held his two hands out placatingly. “Look, kid, I told ya, I’m not a servant, so I’m gonna talk to you however I damn well please. But it’s no reason to get all stabby, yeah? So how about you put down the sword.” 

“Damian,” Mara said, then switched to Arabic as she said, “He claims he did not know of our existence until Lady Talia ordered him to bring me here.”

“How could a servant possibly not know who I am?” Damian responded in like, and Jason just rolled his eyes. These stupid little brats acting like they could have a conversation right in front of his face. Yeah right. His Arabic wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t terrible, either. 

“I am _not_ a servant,” he replied, also in Arabic. If either child was startled he could understand them, they didn’t show it. “Stop calling me one.”

“Then what _are_ you?” Damian asked dryly, crossing his arms as he turned to face Jason. 

“Like I told Mara, Talia trains me.” 

Damian scowled, likely at his lack of ‘respect’ for his mother. These brats thinking they were royalty. And that Jason would even _care_ about that. But then his face softened as he looked at Jason assessingly. “Ah. Then you are Mother’s pet. I have heard of you.”

“ _Pet?”_ Jason objected, “I’m not a fucking pet.”

“You would be wise to watch your-” Damian started, in a nasty little snarl as he pointed his sword at Jason, but was cut off by Jason’s current favorite person on the planet.

Because Talia Al Ghul said sharply, “Damian,” from just out of their sight, causing the little brat to snap to attention at his mother’s chastisement. 

“Mother,” Damian said, turning to face Talia just as she rounded the corner, and froze, cutting off whatever argument he had been gearing up to share. 

Right along with Jason.

Because in Talia’s arms was _another_ kid. 

This one was clinging to Talia in a way Jason would expect a kid to do at 3 in the morning, her arms wrapped tightly around Talia’s neck and her face buried into Talia’s hair. 

“Jason is an ally and you will treat him with respect,” Talia said, exhaustedly, as she coaxed the little girl in her arms to sit up and look around. 

“Tt,” Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes and whole head dramatically, as if Talia had just asked of him the world. 

Talia narrowed her eyes at Damian, then said, “He is your brother, Damian, you will respect him.”

Jason opened his mouth to protest that instantly, because he was _not_ a brother. He did not have brothers. Or sisters. Or fathers. No one. He had no family, and he was perfectly fine with that. He refused to allow Talia to trap him like this into _family_ and all the bullshit that accompanied that. Especially not with such little brats. 

But before he even got one syllable out, he was shut down by the nasty glare Talia shot him.

“And this is your sister,” Talia continued, when Damian didn’t say anything more in reponse.

“My-” Damian said, then just stared helplessly at Talia for a moment before steeling himself and declaring, “I do not have siblings.” 

“Are you questioning me, child?” Talia said warningly, causing Damian to stand just a little straighter, before she softened her voice and said, “This is Athanasia.” 

Talia set the girl down on her feet and Athanasia didn’t let go of Talia’s hand. In fact, she stepped behind Talia, just slightly, and looked between Damian, Jason, and Mara with a tiny little smile on her face. After a second, she waved and hid her face behind Talia. 

“Hi,” Jason said dumbly, not sure how else to react. He’d already met two other kids, so what was a third, right? But Athanasia seemed incredibly shy, while the other two were aggressively… well, everything. Aggressive. And _damn_ was she adorable. 

When Damian looked at Talia searchingly, rather than speak to Athanasia, Talia sighed. “I kept her secret,” she explained, her hand carding through the little girl’s hair absently, “so that Father would not take her from me.” 

Damian shook his head, and Jason looked over to see a whole slew of emotions flickering across Damian’s face. Hurt. Betrayal. Confusion. Anger. It was kind of making Jason feel bad for the little brat. What had he been subjected to that Talia clearly didn’t want Athanasia to suffer? 

“Damian,” Talia said, letting go of her daughter to close the distance between her and Damian. Once she’d knelt down to Damian’s height, she put a hand on his cheek and whispered, “My love,” before pulling him into a very long hug, that Damian clearly found to be incredibly confusing.

If this kid honestly wasn’t used to _hugs,_ Jason would gladly hike across all of Afghanistan, if that’s what it took to get him away from here. Brat or not. 

“Mother, what is happening?” Damian asked, his voice a near whisper. 

Talia pulled him back, placing her hands on either side of his face. “We are leaving, my prince, so you and your sister may grow up in safety.” 

“We _are_ defecting?” Mara asked, her voice partially incredulous, and partly shaken. 

“Mother,” Damian said in alarm, pulling away from her touch, “We cannot-”

“I will not betray my Grandfather,” Mara said, this time with much more confidence as she took a few steps back from them all.

“We are Al Ghuls,” Damian asserted, scowling at Talia, “Mother, be reasonable.” 

“Silence,” Talia shouted, when the two of them delved into speaking over one another in protest. Both children, amusingly, snapped their mouths shut instantly and stood at attention for Talia, who just sighed. “We haven’t a choice.” 

“What possible reason could we have for _defecting,”_ Mara asked, taking a step back from Talia, as if she were about to turn and bolt to get away from them.

“Father learned of Athanasia’s existence, and ordered her and Mara to face each other in battle,” Talia said, and the sheer bitterness on her face was staggering. 

Then her words sank in. 

“Holy shit,” Jason whispered, “Like to death?” He wanted one of them to kill the other? 

Just looking at Athanasia and Mara, Jason had no doubt Mara would win that. But what kind of damage would that cause Mara? Had she already killed? Probably, right? Jason had killed a few times, himself. All while on missions, which were part of his training. It bothered him, a little. Sometimes. When he let himself think about it. But he was 16. He was 16 and _chose_ this. Plus, all his targets have been adults. Horrible adults, at that. Human traffickers, child rapists, baby killers. All of them _deserved it._

But a little girl, barely up to his waist? Probably 6 years old, if Jason had to guess? What would killing her do to Mara? She wouldn’t have a choice. She’d live the rest of her life knowing she took the life of an innocent child. Would she be able to live with herself? 

Talia nodded grimly, and Jason could feel the fire in his blood start to burn. 

“I could-” Mara started, only to pale and take another step back, looking up at Talia anxiously, “If it is what Grandfather orders…”

She _could_ kill Athanasia, she meant, Jason was sure. Of course she _could._

But she _shouldn’t have to._

No child should have to live with that. _Fuck_ Ra’s Al Ghul for even _suggesting_ such thing. Jason was immensely grateful that he was no where near Ra’s at the moment, because had he been in the compound he’s fairly certain he would have barged into Ra’s quarters and punched him right in the face. As it was, all he had was his duffle bag, so he kicked it as hard as he could. The knives inside clanged against each other, and the bag skidded across the snow covered dirt a good six feet, stopped only by one of the many rocks surrounding them. 

“Fuck him,” he growled, clenching and unclenching his fists. He needed something to hit. All he had around him were rocks, though. Rocks and children and Talia. He’d either hurt his hands or immensely regret his life choices, so instead he flung himself down on his bag and sat there, trying his best to calm his breathing and chill. 

Everyone was staring at him, he noticed, when he looked up, so he closed his eyes in order to practice meditating in the way Talia had taught him, when she learned of his ‘anger management’ problems. He still had to roll his eyes at that. Since his anger was never unjustified, he didn’t see much of a problem with having it. But whatever. 

“Mara,” Talia said after a minute, and Jason’s eyes snapped open at her her tone. Because she sounded so kind and almost… loving. Jason would expect that tone from a mother to her child, but everyone had been clear Mara wasn’t her daughter. 

It’s a tone he’d heard from Catherine, many times. _Jason, darling,_ she’d say, and no matter the circumstances, or why she was using it, the tone always made him feel safe. Like a warm blanket being wrapped around him, his mother’s words were comforting, no matter what message they delivered. 

Talia’s words clearly had the same effect on Mara, because her shoulders dropped, slightly, as Talia knelt before her and repeated, “Mara, my niece. Do you think so little of yourself that you believe it acceptable to be pitted against an untrained child to prove your worthiness of life?”

Mara froze so visibly at that, Jason just wanted to get up and go murder Ra’s for sure. Because _what the fuck_ was this. Damian wasn’t used to hugs, Mara wasn’t used to hearing someone affirm her worth in life, and Athanasia was standing off to the side, clinging desperately to a stuffed cat that apparently materialized out of no where. Perhaps she pulled it from the backpack she was wearing. 

In fact, Athanasia looked downright terrified, in all honesty. Talia must not have told her about the whole battle-to-the-death thing. Her little body was trembling, and her face was ghost white as she looked pleadingly at Talia, whose attention was still on Mara. 

“I-” Mara said, then paused and shook her head. 

“Tt,” huffed Damian, rolling his eyes as he took a step closer to Talia and Mara, putting himself within arms reach of Talia, “She is not.”

“Damian,” Talia chastised, and Damian scowled up at her.

“Mother, if this is what Grandfather ordered, who are we to-”

“I will not allow him to harm my children any longer,” Talia snapped, and Jason had enough of this. 

He stood slowly, so not to draw attention to himself, and carefully made his way over to the trembling little girl lost in the background. 

He knelt down next to her, earning only a wary glance before he said, “They’re pretty loud, huh?”

Athanasia nodded slowly, as Damian started ranting about their station and honor or some other nonsense. Talia was pinching the bridge of her nose, and Jason was suddenly glad he wasn’t the little brat. Because he was fairly certain Damian was about to get told off. Or maybe even smacked. 

“So you’re my little sister, huh?” he asked, wondering whether the little girl spoke much English. If she were kept secret from everyone, it was unlikely she’d had much of an education. “How old are you?” he asked, in Arabic this time. 

“Seven,” she whispered in Arabic, so Jason figured he’d just stick with it. 

“Seven, huh? That’s a good age. I’m sixteen.” 

When all the little girl did was take a deep, shaky breath, Jason inched a little closer. “Hey,” he whispered, resisting the urge to reach out and hug her, “There’s no reason to be scared.” Athanasia turned her head to look at Jason, so he added, “Not with me around. I’m your big brother, right?”

She nodded. 

“And do you know what big brothers do?”

“No,” she whispered, pulling her stuffed cat up closer to her face. 

“We protect our little sisters and make sure nothing bad happens to them.”

The tiny little smile Athanasia graced Jason with made him just grin wider. He could already tell he was going to like this kid. She was just so damn cute. 

“Does your cat have a name?” he asked, after looking over at Talia and seeing her speaking quietly to the other two kids, still. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but both of them were absolutely entranced by her, so he figured she was getting through to them and convincing them to ‘defect’ from this damn cult. 

Athanasia held her cat out so Jason could see her better and said, “Kitty,” in English. 

“That is an excellent name.” Jason reached out and ‘pet’ the cat before Athanasia snatched it back and hugged onto it again. “Do you know how old Damian is?”

“He is eight,” she said, louder and more confident now. She’d quit shaking, too. Jason still had that urge to just hug her, though. Maybe she wouldn’t stab him, if he did.

“How old is Mara?” he asked instead.

Athanasia shrugged.

“Jason,” Talia said, successfully gaining his attention as she stood to address all of them, “We should get moving, we do not have time to waste.”

“Sure.” Jason stood and slung his back over his shoulder, then smiled down at Athanasia as she followed him to join Talia and the kids. “So what’s the plan?”

“We will hike to Kabul and fly out of there,” Talia explained, pulling out a small device from her bag, which appeared to be a GPS of some sort. Which was good, because Jason knew for a fact there were no roads anywhere near them. 

Which… just meant this was about to be one hell of a hike. Because most of it was going to be through mountains and desert… 

“Mother,” Damian said, shuffling to catch up as Talia began walking southwest, “That is a week’s hike.”

“Yes, my son. Father will be expecting us to cross into Pakistan or Tajikistan and catch a ride, so we will not.” 

Jason slowed, a little, so that all the children were walking ahead of him, and took up the rear. Athanasia grasped onto Talia’s hand, and Damian just scowled at the little girl. 

_Oh boy,_ he thought. The next week was going to be hell. 

“Do we have enough supplies for this,” Jason asked uneasily, mentally cataloging everything he had in his bag. Which was mostly weapons, clothing, and very basic sleeping supplies. No food or water. He did have an empty water bottle that he could fill, if he wanted to risk drinking melted snow, which he didn’t. Hopefully they’d stumble upon enough springs… 

Talia waived their concerned off with a simple, “My pack is almost entirely food, do not despair.” 

Looking at her backpack, Jason had doubts. While it was a decent size, he was having a hard time believing she had enough food for four people for a week. Maybe if it were entirely protein bars… 

“Do you not trust me?” Talia asked harshly, apparently sensing his hesitancy. After sighing, she added, “If you are worried, we will encounter a village in four days where we can replenish our supplies and perhaps sleep for the night.” 

“Where will we fly to, Lady Talia,” Mara asked, as she trailed along behind Damian. 

“N-” Talia started, then halted throwing her arms out in either direction to stop the rest of them from walking forward. “We have been found,” she whispered harshly, turning and pushing them all in the opposite direction, “Run.” 

They didn’t have a chance, though.

Because not even a step into their retreat, the sound of a gun firing engulfed the previously quiet mountain soundscape, the bullet whistling right past Jason’s ear. 

And when he looked back, he saw the smug face of Deathstroke grinning back at them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting a day early. :). But sorry for that cliff hanger. haha.... 
> 
> I haven't gotten much accomplished on this the past two weeks writing-wise, so for now it's staying on the fortnightly update. Still have four more chapters fully done and polished, though, so don't worry about hiatus. I'll have far more free time in a month from now.


	4. Chapter Three

The next several minutes were a blur to Jason.

Ninjas appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and Jason found himself sorely wishing they’d all started running at full speed the second they’d met up. The _very second._ Instead of standing around playing _twenty questions._

And, of course, he knew the goons were technically called _assassins,_ but with the way they seem to come out of thin air, calling them ninjas worked way better in his head. Besides, he wasn’t about to let any of them kill any of _them,_ so the term assassin was a little strong, now wasn’t it?

Talia went straight for Deathstroke, and he seemed eager enough to face her, considering he drew his sword and _smiled_ as Talia luged at him. Jason wished he could help with that, but again, _ninjas._

_Seven of them._

Damian and Mara leapt into action, to both Jason’s horror and relief. Both of them drew swords and somehow held their own against the four concentrating on them. The other three ninjas ran toward Jason and Athanasia, who had glued herself to his leg, one hand clutched desperately at his pant leg, the other holding tight to Kitty. 

“Stay behind me,” Jason murmured, as he slipped his bag off and drew his own sword. This cult was fucking weird, with the whole obsession with swords, but Jason could hold his own with a sword. It was, actually, one of the many skills Bruce had taught him.

Of course, Bruce taught him with a bo staff. Something he’d never particularly enjoyed. But he _could_ use one, and it hadn’t been difficult to transfer those skills to swordsmanship, after he woke up in the middle of the League of Assassins.

The fight was vicious. Actually _winning_ against three swordsmen was damn near impossible, especially with Athanasia behind him like she was. He was so focused on protecting her, he found it difficult to push himself to the offensive. 

And being on the defensive was the last place one wanted to be when facing the League. 

One of the swords nicked his arm, _again,_ when he barely got his own up in time to catch it. When he looked down and saw the blade inches from Athanasia’s terrified face,he hissed at her to climb the rock behind them. Maybe if she lay flat, she could escape most the action.

Maybe they’d even forget she existed.

But, of course, the little runt made that impossible. Because when he got hit in the side, and let out a loud gasp of pain, Athanasia started throwing rocks down at the ninjas. 

For a clearly untrained seven-year-old, she was remarkably accurate.

Stupid, too. But Jason had to admire her bravery.

Jason took advantage of the distraction and pulled a gun from his bag, chambered the first bullet, and sank three of the rounds right into the guts of his aggressors. When they all fell rather unceremoniously, he turned and used the remaining four on Damian and Mara’s guys. 

The startled gasp Damian made in response distracted Talia, just enough, though. 

For years to come, Jason was going to regret his actions in that very second. Replay and analyze how much time he had, whether he’d been able to do anything. Everything. He just knew, in that very second, that he was watching one of his biggest regrets in life happen. 

Because Jason watched in slow motion horror as Deathstroke took advantage of the distraction and plunged his sword straight into Talia’s abdomen.

And he couldn’t find another clip in his bag fast enough. 

“Mother,” Damian screamed, as Deathstroke removed his sword. 

Talia collapsed to the ground, clutching at her stomach, but didn’t make any noise herself. She locked eyes with Jason, briefly. No longer than a blink, but she said far more to Jason than he ever wanted to hear.

Far more than Jason could handle. _Take care of my kids,_ they were saying. _Help them get away._

That… that was not something he wanted to do without her. 

He _needed_ her. 

She’d… she’d been his mentor. For almost a year. _She_ was the one he turned to. The adult, the one with all the answers. 

But he didn’t have time to think of any of this.

Jason lunged forward and grabbed Damian by the arm, preventing him from approaching Deathstroke like he clearly was about to. _Like a suicidal idiot._

Deathstroke sheathed his sword and pointed his gun at them. Which was great. Because Jason still hadn’t found another clip, and now couldn’t, since he was holding Damian back. He needed to organize his bag better. 

That probably wouldn’t matter, though. Cause he was about to die. 

So none of it mattered, anyway. Not Talia. Not the brats. Nothing. 

They were going to die. 

Unless he could figure out a way to get one over on Deathstroke, without letting go of Damian... 

Perhaps if he _did_ let go of Damian, that would provide enough distraction for him to pull out a set of throwing knives and hopefully stun Slade long enough…

“Jason Todd,” Deathstroke said, interrupting Jason’s thoughts. Slade spared Talia only a second’s glance before he fixed his attention on all of them. 

They were toast. Slade recognizing him could only spell trouble.

Mara held her sword at the ready, and looked like she was just waiting for the right opportunity to launch herself at Slade. 

Double toast. 

“Slade,” Jason said, as if they were greeting each other at the supermarket. If Batman had taught him anything, it was how to repress his emotions, and make it seem like he had none at all.

Which was good. 

Because if Deathstroke knew how much he was panicking, he’d already be dead. 

“Reports of your death have been greatly exaggerated.”

“How original,” Jason drawled. Because that was the most cliched piece of crap ever, and Jason really hoped he never had to hear it again. Slade probably thought he was clever, too.

What an asshole.

Slade ignored him and took another step forward. Instead of do anything Jason was expecting, like murder them all, he asked, “Is your father aware you are here?”

And Jason just glared. 

Slade laughed. “Of course he isn’t. So was it the Lazarus, then?” 

Fuck him, Jason thought. Fuck him so hard. He tried to use Slade’s dumb little story hour to pull a knife, but as soon as Jason’s hand moved an inch toward his bag’s opening, Slade pointed his gun right at Mara. 

Because he was an asshole. 

Too bad Jason wasn’t enough of one, himself, to let Mara get killed in exchange for the rest of them surviving this. 

Movement from Talia drew Jason’s eyes to her, just briefly. She relaxed, some, as she seemed to lose consciousness. If that were the case, there was pretty much no way they could save her. Unless she got tossed into a Lazarus Pit in the next few minutes, there was no way she was surviving this. 

But that probably didn’t matter, in the grand scheme of things. Because they were goners, anyway. 

Damian tried to pull from his grasp again, so Jason sank his nails into Damian’s arms, and hissed, “Don’t be stupid.”

If the kids could _not be stupid,_ maybe he could do something about this. 

God, he needed to fucking think. 

“But, my Mother,” Damian pleaded.

Slade laughed. “There is nothing you can do for her, child.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then added, “there is not much you can do for yourselves, either.”

Maybe he should let the kids at him. If they distracted him enough, Jason could find his fucking clip and fill Deathstroke's stupid ugly face full of lead, then run like hell with the kids. 

Mara launched herself at Deathstroke, as if reading Jason’s mind, but it was painful how easily he grabbed her wrist and dropped the sword from her hand. Then he just held her there, dangling in the air by her arm, kicking and struggling.

“Let her go,” Jason said, a little pleadingly. He wasn’t really sure what he could do to get around this. He was out of shots, and he knew Deathstroke still had at least six. And sure, he could let go of Damian and let Damian go nuts, but judging on how well that went with Mara, he was fairly certain all four of them would die if they faced Deathstroke. He wasn’t at his top, hurting and sore from his fight already. And Deathstroke was difficult for _Batman._ What chance did they stand? 

“She’s just a child.” 

“Ra’s was fairly explicit in his desires to retrieve all five of you. He would prefer the children alive,” he said, pausing to tighten his hold on Mara and lift her up, “but just barely so is good enough.” 

The poor girl growled and kicked at Deathstroke, but got nothing accomplished. 

“Slade,” he said, unsure about _what_ to say.

So, okay. Maybe Slade _wasn’t_ going to kill them, but Ra’s would. 

Deathstroke was going to have to kill him, because he’d sooner die than be handed to Ra’s as a trophy.

“But imagine my surprise to find little Jason Todd among the traitors. What does dear old Daddy think of you joining the League?”

Jason ground his teeth together. He tried to use Slade’s momentary distraction to slip his hand into his bag, again, but Slade was apparently paying more attention than he thought.

Because in a blink, Slade whipped Mara into his arms, using one to pin her to his chest and the other to press his gun up against her head. She tried, boy did she try, to wiggle her way out of his grasp, but she wasn’t strong enough. 

Throwing his free arm up to show he wasn’t grabbing for a weapon, Jason tried to fucking _think._ Take stock of their situation.

Damian had stopped fighting him entirely. Jason was almost sure he could let go of him and he’d just stand there, but wasn’t willing to risk it. Jason wasn’t sure what he’d do after seeing his Mother… like that. And his cousin on her way to joining her. 

Mara was, of course, helpless. 

That was when he realized he couldn’t hear Athanasia at all. He wanted to look back and check for her, but doing so would draw attention to her. Maybe she’d escape Slade’s notice and be able to escape herself. 

What she would do after all the rest of them were killed or turned over to Ra’s, Jason didn’t know…

Besides. Turning his back to Slade would be what killed him. 

Again.

He was sure. 

“Ah, well. I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Slade said, as he tightened his arm around Mara, causing the little girl to gasp.

And fuck. 

These were just little kids. 

“Slade. What do you want?”

Smiling, Deathstroke asked, “Do you want these children, Todd?”

Jason hesitated, because he wasn’t sure if saying yes would make Slade just kill them all or if saying yes was what Slade needed to hear to spare them. 

Was Slade even capable of sparing them?

Maybe? It’s not like Deathstroke was completely moral-less, right?

After he nodded shakily, Slade _smiled._

“Here’s the thing, Todd,” he said, taking a couple steps closer to him and Damian, “I owe your father a favor. I don’t _like_ owing favors.” 

Jason wanted to back away, because with every step closer to them Slade took, the faster Jason’s heart started beating. 

But then Slade holstered his gun. 

“Consider this,” he said, tossing Mara at Jason, “making us even.”

Jason had to let go of Damian in order to catch Mara, who legitimately _squeaked_ when Jason caught her. 

He didn’t even have time to check her over and make sure she was okay before he had to drop her on her feet to grab Damian again.

Because the stupid little runt tried to _lunge_ at Deathstroke. 

When he tried to hold them both in hugs, albeit it a little awkwardly, Mara pushed him away and scowled at him. 

Damian just bit him. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, shuffling Damian around a little so he was pinned a little more effectively. 

“I can see Bruce in them,” Slade said, outright _laughing,_ “I imagine he has no idea Talia was keeping this secret from him.” Slade kept his gun trained on them as he knelt down and picked Talia up, slinging her over his shoulder.

And based on how limp she was, how completely unresponsive and pale her face was, Jason just knew there was no hope for her. 

He couldn’t afford to think about that right now. 

“You gonna tell him?” Jason asked, almost as a grunt as he continued to wrestle with a now _thrashing_ Damian.

Slade smirked at Jason, letting out just a huff of a laugh, then said, “Like I told you. We’re even now.” 

“Mother,” Damian cried, as he tried to kick at Jason to win his freedom. Jason felt for the kid, he did. Especially since the kid was _actually_ crying now. But he could do without the fight. 

“I suggest you run,” Slade said off handedly as he turned his back to them, “before Ra’s grows impatient and sends more men after you.”

Now would be the time for him to shoot Slade. It would take two seconds to locate the magazine with the benefit of his fucking eyes _and_ hands. 

But if Slade were seriously letting them go free… 

Nodding, Jason jumped to his feet. It didn’t take much effort to pull Mara along after him. Surprisingly, she didn’t fight him at all when he grabbed her hand and pulled. 

Damian was, of course, a different story. With a tight grip around the kid’s forearm, he dragged Damian along, over to Athanasia’s rock. 

The girl had been completely visible, as it turned out. And absolutely, entirely, helpless. Because she was sitting up there obviously crying her eyes out. Her face was splotchy, her cheeks damp, and, most disgustingly, her nose all snotty. 

She looked like a normal seven-year-old kid throwing a fit. 

But she didn’t _sound_ like that. Not at all. Her breathing wasn’t even loud and ragged. Jason couldn’t hear her, _at all._

Now was not the time to analyze Athanasia. Since Mara seemed to be on board with running, Jason let go of her hand to reach up for Athanasia. After only a second’s of hesitation, the girl leapt down from her rock and straight into Jason’s outstretched arm. With very little goading, she climbed onto Jason’s back and clung herself there.

Something large and heavy skidded across the snow behind them, just as Jason started forward again. He’d been fully ready to run as fast as he possibly could or, rather, as fast as Damian and Mara possibly could, but couldn’t keep himself from looking behind. 

What he saw made him want to thank his lucky fucking stars. 

Or Slade, he supposed. 

Because there, on the ground, was Talia’s backpack, right where Slade had thrown it. 

They would have died, for sure, without it. Jason was a fucking idiot for not _thinking_ about it himself. 

He ran back and grabbed it, then shoved it at Mara, who put it on the front of her body, since her back was already occupied by another bag. Jason would have carried it, but he was wearing Athanasia and possibly Damian, in a second. He also didn’t trust the stupid little brat long enough to let go.

They’d need to stop in a while and rearrange their bags. But now, they needed to run.

“But, Mother,” Damian cried, as Jason started pushing them to run. He tugged at his arm in Jason’s hand, but did, indeed, move his feet forward.

“I’m sorry, kid,” he said, sincerely, “there isn’t anything we can do. We have to run.”

“We’re just leaving her!”

“We will _die_ otherwise.”

Honestly, Jason was still reeling from the fact they _weren’t_ dead. 

Damian planted his feet and growled “She’s my mother, we have to _try.”_

“There isn’t time,” Jason snarled, pausing to guide Athanasia’s legs around his waist to make sure she could support her own weight. Because if he had to carry a kicking and screaming Damian, he wouldn’t be able to support her weight, too. “Either we run or we stay here and die with her!”

When Jason tugged harder at Damian’s arm and started to drag him, Damian pulled a knife and snarled, “Unhand me.”

Great. 

So the kid had another fucking knife on him the _whole fucking time._

Jason could have _used_ that. 

Too late now, though.

“Listen,” he said, tightening his grip on Damian, all but daring him to actually stab him, “Talia just sacrificed herself for you. Not so you can fight to defend her or whatever, but so you can _live_ the rest of your life. Don’t dishonor her by throwing that away and making her sacrifice meaningless.”

They needed to get away. They had maybe ten minutes, if Jason was guessing, before Slade made it back to the compound and informed Ra’s that he was ‘unable to find’ them, or whatever he was going to say. Three minutes after that before the woods are swarmed with ninjas looking for them. 

There was no time to argue over whether Talia was savable. 

She _wasn’t._

End of story.

“But,” Damian started, but the his face absolutely crumpled. Jason wanted to scoop him up, if only to comfort him. But they needed to _run._

“Run, Damian,” Jason said, and that was all Damian needed. He scrubbed at his eyes once, and nodded. Obviously Damian had received the same training as Jason, on how to push down emotions for the sake of the mission. 

_Good._

They’d need those skills if they were getting out of this alive.

Mara, who had been standing ahead, keeping watch, even if impatiently, turned with them and the three of them started running down the mountain.

Jason had no idea where they were even going, but at least they were _going._

Once they got far enough away to consider themselves ‘escaped,’ maybe then they could pause and figure out where to go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry. It was part of the prompt, after all. 😬


	5. Chapter Four

They ran for what felt like an hour. Jason knew, logically, that it had been no where near that long. But thankfully, Athanasia held onto Jason tightly the entire time, so he did not have to support her entire weight with his arms. A small mercy, considering the combined load he was carrying, anyway. He wasn’t quite sure to do about the fact that she hadn’t quit crying, though, her entire body shaking at times as she kept her face buried in Jason’s shoulder.

Instead of deal with that, or with the way Damian’s distress had turned to anger, Jason ignored it all and concentrated on where he was placing his foot for each step. The last thing he needed was to trip.

And if he stopped to think, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

Damian and Mara were being stubbornly quiet, which was probably also a problem, but just another thing Jason was thankful for. He really could not deal with them yet. Both of them were clearly stewing for probably two different reasons, judging by the significant scowls on their faces. 

Jason focused on navigating them toward Kabul. That had been Talia’s plan, so Jason was going to stick with it. What they were doing from there, he had no idea. He’d dig through her bag, later, once they stopped for breakfast and hope the contents would direct him towards what to do next.

He remembered from his geography lessons that they were situated in the mountains of Afghanistan, in the narrow corridor between Pakistan and Tajikistan, and there was a river that separated Afghanistan from Tajikistan. If they could get to the river, they could follow it east southeast out of the corridor and then find a road and follow it to Kabul. 

That would also, likely, be the easiest route, considering they were quite literally right in the middle of the mountains. Hiking up and down every single one was going to become exhausting and would slow them down significantly. 

They’d been running down a valley, so far, but Jason could see up ahead that their luck would not hold out forever. 

Not that he thought it would. He’d wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and Ra’s, and this was the easiest way to do that. Maybe Slade would throw him off their trail. Surely that counted as making them even, right?

Because what was the point, if he let them go just to send the entire League after them?

Hopefully Ra’s would not be able to pick back up their trail once they crossed over the mountains toward the river. 

It took an hour to hike over the next mountain, and by then the sun had fully risen. They’d been lucky the moon was up, and at a fairly full cycle, because other wise they would have been tripping about all morning long.

Waking up at 2 in the freaking morning to escape a cult was _not_ how Jason had wanted to spend his day. But Jason rarely got what he wanted, now did he? 

Jason figured they could finish hiking the rest of the day, then break at sunset and sleep that night. If they could make it that long, that was. He knew _he_ could, but there were children with him to think about.

Freaking _children._

Right before they reached the base of the mountain, Jason saw something he should have been looking for all along.

A well.

Sure, it meant they were near _someone._ Civilization of some sort. But the well looked friggen ancient. So there was no telling who was around, if anyone. 

It didn’t matter. Out there? It was every man for himself. 

He had a water bottle in his bag, of course. That had been a quick lesson to learn, early on during one of his first training sessions. Water wasn’t something just handed out to trainees of the League of Assassins. It wasn’t like the freaking batcave where Alfred appeared at just the right moment with a clean glass of crisp water. 

No.

In the League, if Jason didn’t take care of himself, no one would. 

Considering Jason had lived on the streets for a while, it hadn’t been a particularly hard lesson to learn. Just a… startling one.

Because Talia _did_ take care of him. 

He… he hadn’t had to fend for himself for a long time, because of it. Because of her.

It was nice. It had been nice. He missed Talia, when she wasn’t around. When he was off with trainers. On missions. _Away._

Fending for himself sucked. Even if he could do it. When she was around, everything just felt… okay. 

And now with Talia gone…. 

Shaking his head, Jason stopped short, then dropped his bag on the ground so he could fish his water bottle out. He drank the last few ounces he’d had, just what was left from his last refill before bed. 

Mara and Damian caught on before Jason finished downing what was left of his water, and backtracked to the well. 

They both dug their water bottles out and filled them without Jason even telling them to, which was nice. Athanasia didn’t, however. 

He tried to detach himself from a still crying Athanasia, but she felt absolutely glued to him. His shoulders were stiff from where she’d been holding tight, and he’d like nothing more than to stretch his back. So if she could get off, that’d be great. 

It took a little big of coaxing, but finally he managed to get her to let go. 

But of course, she had to be dramatic about it. 

Once she slipped to the ground, she sniffled once, scrubbed at her face, and then basically collapsed in on herself.

“Here,” he said, holding out his water bottle for her, “why don’t you get yourself a drink.”

If nothing else, it would give her something to do. 

Athanasia nodded and filled the bottle with water Mara had already pulled up. Then she started gulping it down. And Jason just frowned.

Poor kid. 

With all the crying she’d done, she was probably super dehydrated. Jason could feel a wet spot on his shoulder and tried not to think too hard about it. _The kid was seven._

The fuck was he supposed to do with these kids?

Hopefully he’d get a clue from Talia’s backpack. 

The kids had been taking turns carrying the bag, and Jason was pleasantly surprised by their actual teamwork. For some reason, he hadn’t been expecting that from them. And when he asked Damian to hand it to him, Damian didn’t protest for a second. Simply picked the bag off the ground and handed it over.

After filling their bottles each for a second time, the kids gathered around Jason and knelt down, watching as he started digging through Talia’s possessions.

She hadn’t been lying. Her bag was mostly food. She even had a few filled bottles of water. Jason handed one out to each kid, wordlessly instructing them to place them in their own bags. He also found Talia’s empty reusable water bottle, and handed it to Athanasia. “Can you fill this up for me?” he asked, without even looking up. He still hadn’t had any water, himself. Since he gave Athanasia his bottle and everything.

“Okay,” she whispered, taking the bottle from him and trotting over to the spring. 

Did Athanasia have her own bottle in her bag? Jason hoped so. He’d need to make sure it got filled, too, before they moved on.

All Jason saw in the bag was food. Lots of food. Well, not _lots,_ but enough to get them by, he was pretty sure. 

Hadn’t Talia packed _anything_ else?

Jason looked up, briefly, when Attie trotted back over to them and saw the other kids staring blankly at him. Like they were waiting for him to start talking. Or giving instructions. Or something. 

The fuck was he supposed to do? 

He had a feeling if he tried ordering them around, they wouldn’t listen well, but at the same time… They were all relying on him. 

And they all knew it.

Where the fuck was he going to take them? Talia had a plan, but Jason had no idea what it even was. 

Athanasia sat down next to him and silently held out the water bottle for him to take. Thankful for the distraction, Jason took it and drank half the water before looking back down into Talia’s backpack. 

She’d packed all sorts of food. It was, unfortunately, mostly protein bars. Which Jason hated. Most of them appeared to have at least 200 calories, though, and many had as many as 500. So at least they weren’t shitty 50 calorie wastes of space. He picked a few of the lower calorie count bars and handed one to each of the kids, deciding that should be sufficient for breakfast. They’d stop again in a couple hours and eat a more substantial lunch. 

He also found bags of trail mix, dried fruit, and, thank god, dried meat. At least two dozens large strips of it. He pulled out one of the smaller pieces to share between the four of them. Based on smell, it seemed to be lamb, which definitely wasn’t his favorite, but it was one of the staples of the League. So he supposed that made sense. 

Between the protein bars and the lamb, Jason was already looking forward to their first stop at a restaurant. Whenever the hell that would be.

He ripped the jerky into four equal pieces and passed each kid a portion before he started robotically chewing on his own. 

As the kids nibbled on their food, Jason went about making sure all the food was nice and neat, then zipped it back up and turned his attention to his weapons bag.

The entire reason fucking Deathstroke _won_ that match. 

To start with, he loaded all his spare magazines and lined them up on the duffle’s outer zipper pocket. Now each one would be easily accessible to him. He reloaded his gun and tucked it into his waist, then made sure his knives were organized and reachable. For good measure, he hid a couple of those on his body. 

Now, all the rest of his gear, his sleeping bag, change of clothes, and such, were at the bottom of the bag and all his weapons right up top. Hopefully they wouldn’t be faced with another fight, but if they were, Jason wasn’t going to lose it thanks to disorganization.

He would say that’s the last time he lets Talia pack his bag for him, but that was kind of already obvious.

With her being dead and all.

Jason finished off the last bite of his protein bar and collected up the used wrappers from the other kids. When he went to shove them in a pocket inside Talia’s backpack, however, he had to pause. 

Because shoved in there was an envelope with his name written right along the side.

Curiously, he pulled it out and slowly opened it. The kids seemed to notice his discovery, too, and quickly crowded around him to inspect it. Because maybe it was the fucking answer to “where the hell should we go??”

He was a little impressed no one had outright snatched it out of his hand. But maybe Talia telling the kids he was their ‘brother’ had sown enough respect into them to quit treating him like a servant. 

Inside the envelope, he found a wad of local currency. He wasn’t very familiar with the afghani, but he knew it’s value against the US dollar was pretty low. Which was probably why he was staring at tens of thousands of afghani. Nearly a hundred thousand, if he were to guess.

“Count that and divide it into five piles,” he said, holding the money out for whichever kid to take. Mara did, and started diligently sorting the money into the piles. Jason was grateful he didn’t have to explain he wanted the money split between all the bags. Probably one of the worst things would be if _one_ bag got stolen, and it so happened to have all their money. 

It probably wouldn’t hurt for them to hide some of the money on each of their bodies, but the league clothing lacked proper pockets. At least, ones Jason would trust with valuable items. The robes were better for hiding weapons than anything else. 

With the money was also a letter, so Jason pulled it out and opened it. 

Talia’s penmanship was _ridiculous._ She’d honestly taken the time, at some point during the very chaotic night, to sit down and write out in near calligraphy this letter. The dramatics of this damn cult…

“ _Jason,”_ it started, then continued on in _German._ Why the fuck was it _in_ German? How did Talia even know he _knew_ German. He didn’t recall that ever coming up in their training. 

“What does it say?” Damian asked, leaning further against Jason so he could see the letter better. 

Ah. 

Perhaps that was why it was in German.

 _“I regret leaving you with this burden,”_ Talia wrote, “ _but Father has forced my hand. If you are reading this, I was unable to escape with you._

Fucking hell. 

She hadn’t expected surviving the night? 

_Fucking hell._

_“Damian and Athanasia are your father’s children,”_ the letter continued, and Jason had an intense desire to roll his eyes. He _hated_ how insistent she was being about Bruce being his ‘dad.’ 

They _never_ spoke about him. 

Which, actually. They did, sometimes. 

But _never_ did she refer to him as _that._ She knew how pissed off Jason was at Bruce. 

And how justified he was in that anger.

Why was she doing this to him?

“ _I have kept them secret from him and each other. My father will not stop until he gets his hands on them. He is relentless. I know you do not wish to return to him, but your father can offer the protection they need. Consider him.”_

 _Fucking_ hell. 

Jason had to pause and take a deep breath. 

Because.

There was no way in _hell_ he was going back to Bruce. He’d specifically told her he would not go back to Bruce.

Why the fuck would he want to?

It’s not like Bruce wanted _him._

Jason dying was probably a huge fucking relief to him. He’d replaced him fast enough, after all. 

He’d been so pissed about the Gonzales thing. So quick to disown him. Well, Bruce had wanted to do that, at least. He fired him from Robin. Grounded him. And was probably researching ways he could unadopt Jason without causing a huge media storm. Jason had been sure the only reason he wasn’t kicked out was because of the bad press Bruce would receive for it. 

Bruce did start ignoring him, after all. 

It wasn’t fucking _fair._ Bruce was supposed to be better than that. Jason had _trusted_ him. 

Bringing the kids to _that_ was…

Possible. He supposed. 

If… if Talia thought… Maybe he would take them.

They _weren’t_ him, after all. 

But, then again. Bruce hated him because he ‘killed’ Gonzales. Bruce and his stupid damn ‘morals,’ as he called them, meant he couldn’t even see past something he _thought_ Jason did. 

Would… would he even consider taking the kids? 

He definitely wouldn’t take Jason. That much was obvious. 

Jason hadn’t even killed before, and Bruce hated him for it. Hated him for _considering_ it. 

What would he say, now? Jason had just killed seven men. _Seven._ Without second thought or remorse. He’d do it again, too, if that’s what it took to protect these kids. 

They were just innocent kids, after all.

Although, it was very possible Bruce wouldn’t see it that way. He’d see the blood that was undoubtedly on Damian and Mara’s hands and judge them harshly. He’d probably offer protection anyway. Maybe. At least to Damian. Since he shared DNA with the kid.

He’d welcome Athanasia in with open arms, he was sure. Jason could already tell she was a sweetheart. And since Talia had spared her from the training, they wouldn’t have to deal with skeletons in her closet. 

But Mara? Would Bruce take Mara? Why would he want the niece of his ex-lover? He had no responsibility to her.

He might. She was a child. Bruce might do it just to spite Ra’s. But even if he took all three kids, he’d likely just throw Jason in jail. Call him crazy and lock him up in Arkham. 

There was no way in fuck he was letting that happen.

He’d… he’d have to figure this out. 

Looking back down at the letter, Jason hoped to find more instructions. Instead, all he found were instructions on where to pick up the necessary passports to get them across all the borders they’d need to cross. German passports in New Delhi, English passports in Frankfurt, and US passports in London. Talia’s contacts were apparently preparing everything for them, and by the time they made it out of the Wakhan Corridor, everything would be ready.

That was… a lot of fucking travel. 

A lot of travel, just to end up at Bruce’s doorstep, in the end. 

The mere thought of that caused Jason’s chest to seize. 

There was no way he could do that. How the fuck was he going to do that? Face Bruce? 

Shit. 

Fuck. 

“Well,” Damian said impatiently, “What did Mother say?” 

Take a breath, Jason told himself. He had to fucking hold it together. 

_He_ was the adult now. 

Fuck.

“Nothing,” Jason dismissed, folding the letter back up haphazardly and shoving it back into the zippered pocket, happy to ignore it for a few more days. 

He already had the travel plan committed to memory, so he probably wouldn’t have to reference it a single more time. 

In fact. He should probably burn it. 

Yes. The first chance he got, he was going to burn it. 

“Do not lie to me,” Damian said, smacking his fist against the ground beneath them. His motion caused Mara’s neat piles to topple, and the girl scowled at Damian.

“Damian,” Mara snapped, stopping to straighten everything back up, “You’re making me lose count.”

“You would have lost count, regardless. There is little chance your brain is capable of-”

“Whoa,” Jason said, pointing a finger at Damian, “We don’t talk about family like that.”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, and seemed to want to argue with Jason on that point, but changed back to the original topic, “What did Mother say?”

“ _Nothing,”_ Jason reiterated, reaching a hand out now that Mara had finished counting up and splitting the money. When she handed him a stack to put in Talia’s bag, he added, “Just how we should go about getting to America. That’s it.” 

Each of the children placed a stack of money in their own bags, and Jason put the remaining in his weapons bag.

“Isn’t that where Father lives?” Athanasia whispered, turning her still blotchy face up to Jason, “Are we going to Father?”

Damian perked up at her question, dropping the annoyed scowl he’d been holding since Jason evaded his question. 

“I-“ Jason began, then hesitated.

 _Were_ they going to Bruce? 

Could they even?

“Mara, how much money we got?” 

“It’s 160,000 Afghani,” she reported, only slightly raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Well?” Damian demanded. 

“Lets see how far this money gets us.” 

Maybe they wouldn’t even have enough money to make it to Gotham. Then they’d be stuck in Germany or something. 

That…. That….

He didn’t like that idea, either. 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, but before he could get another demand out, Jason abruptly stood and slung the bags over his shoulders. 

Before any of them reacted, Jason started marching forward. They had days to argue about where they were going, to demand answers out of him. For all Jason was concerned, he was done talking about it.

Mostly, he wanted to stop thinking about it. 

He had days to figure it out. 

Hopefully by the time they made it to Kabul, he’d have a solid plan down. 

But perhaps that was wishful thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running toward the end of my polished-ready-to-go chapters but my busy-ness also ends this week! So I'll have time to start writing and revising next week. I'm so excited. :D


	6. Chapter Five

The rest of the day passed in near silence.

Jason let Damian lead the way. He’d put Damian in charge of the GPS device Talia brought. It’s not that Jason didn’t know how to use it or anything, the brat just seemed less miserable when he thought he had an important job and could use his ‘superior intellect’ to do something ‘better’ than Jason could.

Honestly, kids were so fucking easy to manipulate.

Athanasia tried to get Jason to carry her again, not even an hour after their stop for breakfast, but Jason was an asshole and made her walk. They’d slowed down considerably for her, though, so he knew it wasn’t _that_ taxing on her.

But, then again…

Jason kind of doubted she’d walked this far in her entire life. It wasn’t helping that they were hiking _up_ now. One more mountain lay between them and the river.

He couldn’t imagine what life was like for her, hidden from everyone.

Did she ever leave Talia’s quarters? Where did Talia even hide her? She didn’t, like, shove her in the closet or anything, did she?

Jason was definitely curious, but didn’t want to pry too much into Athanasia’s life with her mother so soon after Talia’s death. Making the little girl talk about her seemed wrong, almost.

But he did keep an eye on her to make sure her whining was normal seven-year-old whining and not actual exhaustion. He _would_ carry her if it came to that. They’d just get farther if Jason didn’t have to carry his bag of weapons and supplies, which weighed at least 50 lbs, _and_ the probably same weight that was Athanasia.

They stopped for lunch at the peak of the next mountain, and rested there for half an hour before finishing the trek to the river.

Finally, once they reached the river, they started making much better time. With mostly flat land, it was easier to traverse, and they were hiking several miles an hour, rather than half of one, if that.

The biggest downside, however, was the number of tiny villages they discovered. Jason never realized how many remote villages there were in Afghanistan, but every couple miles they had to make wide arcs back into the mountains to avoid being spotted. Villages as remote as these would definitely leak, Jason just knew. They probably traded with one another, and word would get out about four kids wandering the Afghani countryside by themselves.

Jason knew Ra’s was looking for them. And the last thing he wanted was to be found by Ra’s.

It slowed them down, but it was still better than hiking up and down every single snow-peaked mountain on the south side of the Wakhan Corridor. And since Ra’s was likely expecting them to cross south into Pakistan and hitch a ride on one of the main roads there, they were doing the exact opposite.

But that was fine. Based on the map he found in Talia’s bag, they’d spend the first two days avoiding villages, then spend an entire day without encountering any, then they’d be in interior Afghanistan and wouldn’t have to worry so badly about being spotted. They’d still avoid villages for that next day, but then they would find a main road and hopefully catch a ride to Kabul from there where kids traveling alone might not be so odd.

Damian was absolutely right, it would be an eight day hike if they walked the entire way there.

Hopefully they wouldn’t have to.

Athanasia was a trooper, and made it until about two hours until sunset. Jason finally gave in and let her ride piggy back the rest of the way. It was hard not to when she started crying about her feet hurting…

Kids crying was something Jason could never handle.

It was likely far more than just her feet hurting, too. If this was indeed her first hike like Jason suspected. Based on how she passed out basically as soon as Jason picked her up, he figured pushing her for about 12 miles through the mountains was maybe a tad too harsh of a first hike.

Mara rolled her eyes at Athanasia, but took the food bag when Jason held it out for one of them to take. None of them spoke, but he could see the distain both kids had toward Athanasia.

Jason could only imagine the punishment _they_ would have received for showing a weakness like this.

No wonder Talia kept Athanasia secret. Jason couldn’t imagine raising a cane to a sweet girl like Attie for any reason.

Actually, Jason couldn’t imagine doing so to either Mara or Damian, either…

Ra’s was definitely an asshole and Jason hoped the bastard slipped and fell off a cliff.

Into a swamp.

Filled with alligators.

There was a special place in hell for child abusers.

When it was about half an hour until sunset, Jason started looking for a decent place to make camp for the night. They wouldn’t be able to set anything up, because he knew they needed to be prepared to run at a moment’s notice, so he looked for something that offered a bit of natural shelter.

In the end, he picked a group of rocks uphill some from the river. They weren’t on the high, high ground, which would be impossible to do without climbing back into the mountains, but Jason had a decent vantage point of everything around him and they’d be out of view from anyone on the river, thanks to the rocks.

They’d filled their water bottles recently, too, so Jason didn’t need to worry about finding a spring or someone’s well. They’d used a well most recently, actually. Natural springs were hard to come by in the desert. Jason didn’t feel bad at all. The water belonged to the _earth._ Not whoever dug the well.

“Sleep,” was all Jason said, after he’d abruptly changed direction and stopped at the group of rocks.

“Tt,” Damian huffed, but incredibly, all he did was drop his bag onto the ground and start unpacking his sleeping equipment. A basic inflatable pad with a thin blankets was all any of them had. It didn’t take up much room in their bags, which was great.

What wasn’t great, though, was how uncomfortable it was.

“I can keep watch,” Damian offered, even as he started unlacing his boots.

Jason shook his head, and said quickly, “Keep your boots on.” If they needed to get up and run in the middle of the night, they were going to want their boots _on._

Holy fuck the next week was going to be miserable.

“And no,” he added, looking around and finding a nice spot to sit, up against a rock, where he had a decent view of their surroundings, “you sleep. I’m good for now. I’ll wake you in a few hours for a turn. Cool?”

Damian nodded, and laid himself down, somehow managing to look _cozy_ all wrapped up in his blanket. When he turned his back to the rest of them and his head head, Mara frowned, then told Jason, “I can take a turn after Damian.”

“Sure,” Jason agreed, smiling a little when Athanasia climbed up on the rocks with them, after she’d taken a quick restroom break.

“But I don’t trust _her_ to protect us,” Mara said snidely, practically baring her teeth at Athanasia.

Which, that was unfair, directing any sort of anger for this situation at Athanasia. It’s not like she chose to be born. And Talia had quite literally laid down her life that morning just to protect both Athanasia _and_ Mara.

Honestly, they should be banding together as grandkids of Ra’s. Survivors of his freaking stupid cult, not starting some stupid rivalry.

But Jason was too damn tired to address any of that. As long as the kids weren’t getting stabby with each other, he didn’t care what they did.

“No,” he said, lifting his arm when Athanasia laid her mat out right next to Jason and snuggled up against his side. Once she’d settled down, her back pressed up against his leg, he placed his hand in her hair and started stroking it in what he hoped was comforting. “Athanasia needs to sleep the whole night so she can walk more tomorrow.”

He’d never thought of himself as a comforting person, but something about having a seven-year-old cry into his shoulder for several hours made him soft, he supposed.

Plus, she was really freaking cute.

“My legs hurt,” she whined, her voice still not much above a whisper. Jason had yet to hear her speak any louder than that.

“I know,” he soothed, still combing through her hair, pausing only to work out the tangles caused by leaving it down all day, “Is this your first time hiking?”

Athanasia nodded, closing her eyes as she did. “Mama takes me on missions sometimes so I can go outside, but we never get to walk around outside much.”

Jason closed his eyes at Athanasia’s used of the present tense, and could feel the exact instance Athanasia realized she’d used it too.

“Took,” she corrected, the squeak of incoming tears in her voice.

“Well you’re going to see a lot of outside now, huh?” Jason tried, hoping his caressing of her hair was actually comforting. He knew _he_ loved being pet like this as a child. Hopefully it translated to a kid who’d been deprived basic human contact, outside Talia of course, for most of her life.

There had to have been another person though, right? Because babies couldn’t like, feed themselves. _Someone_ had to know about Athanasia other than Talia in order to take care of her when Talia was away.

“Yeah,” she whispered, “I want to see the ocean.”

“Oh yeah? Well I’ve got good news for ya, kiddo. Not only are we going to see the ocean, we’re going to fly _over_ it.”

“Where are we going?” Mara asked, rolling over to face both of them. Damian was still hiding under his blankets, but Jason figured the kid was either conked out already or maybe possibly crying.

He wasn’t making any noise, though, so he wasn’t sure about the crying thing.

Jason wouldn’t be surprised if he and Mara both knew how to cry without actually crying.

He debated for a moment what to tell them. Talia really wanted them to go to Gotham, but the more Jason thought about that, the more panicked he felt. He _couldn’t_ go to Gotham.

But he also knew he couldn’t blend in anywhere else in the world, either.

He wasn’t that good at faking accents yet. He might be able to slide by, especially when he only needed to speak to people once or twice, but to actually live in a city? In a country? And pretend like he’d always been there?

There was no way.

And there was something comforting about being on his home turf.

He thought, maybe, if he were back home, he’d be able to relax a little more. It’d be one less thing to worry about.

Plus, Ra’s controlled the Asia, the Middle East, and a lot of Europe, too. They wouldn’t find safety there easily.

America, though?

They might be able to blend in somewhere in America.

It was their best best.

“America,” he said, in a tone that didn’t invite protests.

Mara rolled her eyes, anyway, and protested, “You said that already. Where _specifically.”_

That… Jason didn’t know.

Talia was right, Gotham was the _safest place,_ which was a funny thought in itself. _Gotham_ and _safe_ didn’t belong together in the same sentence, unless connected by the words ‘is not.’

But Bruce _would_ offer protection Jason could never hope to replicate on his own. He’d be able to blend in somewhere on his own, as just Jason. He looked young, sure, but lots of people have ‘baby faces.’ All he had to do was tell people he was 18, and they’d likely believe him. With the false documents Talia had created, which hopefully all cited that as his age, at least. The Afghani passport said he was 18. Almost 19, actually, which was funny. His birthday _was_ in just a couple months.

Could he keep the kids safe, though? That was going to be the big question.

On his own?

Put simply, fuck no.

“To Father?” Athanasia asked, somehow still not asleep, despite Jason knowing she was _exhausted._ He would be surprised if he didn’t have to shake her awake in the morning.

But of course she was awake enough to go asking stupid questions like that.

But Talia was right, Bruce was their best bet.

Jason could probably bring the kids to Gotham and send them on up to the Manor and escape off before he was spotted. He did know Manor security, after all. It’d only been a year and some change since he was last there, how much more could they have added?

He’d send the kids up to the front door, Alfred would answer and be startled by three tiny children standing there, but instantly see the resemblance to Bruce and know they were telling the truth when they explained their story.

Bruce would get three shiny new kids, and Jason would be free of the responsibility. Free to go find his own life, somewhere else in the country. Since there was no way Bruce would allow him to live in Gotham undisturbed.

That was actually a good plan. He could see that working.

That’s what he had told Talia he wanted, anyway. He’d _told_ her he wasn’t going to Gotham. He wouldn’t go to _him._

He’d help her escape the League and then they’d split ways.

Sure, Talia didn’t set out to die and shit, but that didn’t mean his own desires had changed.

But he was also now responsible for getting these little kids out of Ra’s grubby awful hands.

He wasn’t a massive fan of dying, and didn’t want to be dramatic or anything, but he’d probably die before he let Ra’s touch any of them again.

Even if that meant seeing Bruce.

He just… really didn’t want to.

“I don’t know,” he whispered back, still running his hand through Athanasia’s hair, then looked up at Mara and said, “Why don’t you both get some sleep, okay? We’ll worry about our plans another day.”

With a scowl, Mara hid herself under the blanket.

At least the brats weren’t being massive brats, Jason supposed.

Athanasia nodded against him, then snuggled in closer as she, too, drifted off to sleep.

Jason looked up to the sky to watch the stars as they slowly came into view with the darkening of the sky, trying his best to think of nothing. And he knew that ‘another day’ would come far too soon for his liking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness! I'm at the end of my 'polished' stuff, but I still have 16k of stuff written already. And need to write about 4k more I think between chapter 6 and 7, but I haven't decided yet. Basically, from here on out it's gonna take actual work from me, but I can do it! I think in April I want to do a 'nanowrimo' type thing again where I write another 30k for this story, but we'll see. I'm on telework right now because, well, I'm sure you all know, and it's actually incredibly draining. I'm working at a historic house, and I'm new, so I was handed a stack of reports and books talking about the history of the house, the important person who owned it, and the administrative history of the museum management itself. Reading for 8 hours a day this sort of stuff is surprisingly exhausting. I thought I'd get a TON written, but really I've just got a lot accomplished in the way of unpacking, organizing, and cleaning, since none of that takes my brain. But anyway, I'll stop rambling.
> 
> I am moving the posting date to Wednesdays, rather than Tuesdays, so I have a little bit more time between _The Best Things_ on Sundays. :) Other than that, you can continue to expect fortnightly updates. :D. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and commenting and kudosing and everything! I love you all. <3


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise

The night seemed to drag on forever. With nothing to fully occupy his mind, Jason found himself drifting back to _thoughts_ he didn’t want to _have._

He already hated every single second of this stupid trip, and they weren’t even two days into it. 

But, four hours did eventually pass, and after them, Jason woke Damian to take over watch. 

After situating his bedding, Jason took his sweet time hiking a little ways from the kids to take a quick break and relieve himself. 

At least there, about thirty yards away from the kids, he was able to pretend he was just out on another mission. 

Hiking through the countryside, on his way to a pick up location. 

No kids relying on him. No madman hunting them. No assassins tracking them. No threat of jail or… or worse… at the end of this journey. 

Nothing.

Just Jason and the stars. 

It… 

did not help at all.

“Fuck,” he muttered, as he took a deep breath and turned around, back toward their camp. 

Ready to close his eyes and _hopefully_ sleep through the night. At least then time would move a little faster…

When he approached the campsite, however, his thoughts of sleep were pushed aside. Because the first thing he noticed, aside from the weird way Damian was keeping watch. Which was sitting up, stick straight, and looking around vigilantly. Weirdo. 

No. The distracting thing was Athanasia crying. 

Or… at least, he assumed she was crying. What he really saw was her tiny little shoulders shaking, her blanket pulled up to cover her face. 

She hadn’t made a single noise _once_ while crying, and it was a little creepy. Like, a lot creepy, actually. 

After only a second of deliberation, he decided to ignore her for the time being, like the asshole he was. 

The kid was going to cry. 

Probably a lot, for the next little while. 

_Her mom had just died._

Then again…Jason hadn’t cried when _his_ mother died. Not after the first few minutes, that is. 

Once social services picked him up and dropped him off at his first hell-hole of a foster home, Jason had learned very quickly not to cry. 

He was not going to teach Athanasia that lesson. 

He… should do something, then.

 _Fuck._

Jason took a second to reposition his sleeping mat. Originally, he thought he’d sleep a little further away from Athanasia. He wasn’t a fan of sleeping in close quarters, and really, he liked his space. But he was starting to think being a little closer to Athanasia might be better. Might help her a little.

When she turned to face him, Jason reached out and brushed her hair out of her face and whispered, “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.” 

Athanasia looked at him through tear filled eyes, then scrambled closer to him, tucking herself into Jason’s side. Her stuffed cat, which she’d been clutching all night, got pinned between her and Jason as she buried her face into his shirt. 

That definitely wasn’t what he was expecting, but if it got her to stop crying _without_ beating it out of her, then he wasn’t going to say anything about it. Because while he didn’t want to make her afraid to cry, he _also_ didn’t want to deal with the tears…

Mostly because he had no idea how to handle them. 

He just felt awkward, trying to comfort other people. 

But he was a little touched she apparently felt so safe with him. 

There was no way he would have trusted a stranger this quickly when he was in Athanasia’s shoes. 

A newly orphaned, homeless child, that was. 

Holy shit. That’s what they were, wasn’t it?

Homeless?

Jason never thought he’d be homeless again. When Bruce adopted him, he’d assumed he’d finally escaped poverty. 

And perhaps they didn’t count as being ‘in poverty.’ ….yet. But they were most certainly homeless. 

Refugees might be a good word to describe them, too. Refugees from a war between good and evil. Escapees from a ridiculous cult. Homeless for the time being. The next couple weeks, at the very least. 

Thank God it was summer. He didn’t want these kids to have to experience sleeping outside in the snow.

That fucking _sucked._

Nothing was worse than getting slightly damp in winter, because then you spent the following _weeks_ never truly getting warm. 

He still had nightmares about it, sometimes. If he slept somewhere colder than comfortable, especially, he’d wake every hour with a nightmare about freezing to death on the streets of Gotham. Heaven knew he thought that would happen enough times as a child. 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, from a few feet away where he’d chosen to keep watch, “a child like you will never survive-”

“Damian,” Jason snapped, as quietly as he could since Mara appeared to be asleep, “shut up.”

“Do not speak to me in that man-” Damian started, but Jason wasn’t going to go back to being called a servant. Or whatever shit Damian wanted to dish.

Actually it would be funny to hear him throw around his lineage. After they’d defected from his Grandfather’s cult. 

His Al Ghul blood would get him no where, now.

“Don’t speak to _your sister_ in that manner, either,” he countered, wrapping his arm around Athanasia to try and position her somewhat comfortable. He did want to sleep, after all, and he couldn’t do that if her bony little elbow was digging into his ribs. 

Damian sniffed at Jason, then said in the most haughty tone, “I do not have a sister.”

“You do, whether you like it or not. So get over it and stop being a brat.”

“Tt,” he huffed again, but did drop it, thankfully letting Jason try to sleep some.

Athanasia had seemed to quit crying, but Jason could tell she wasn’t asleep, either. 

He was going to ignore that. She’d probably go back to sleep. If she didn’t whatever. They’d just have a miserable day tomorrow. 

Really, he couldn’t wait to drop these brats off in Gotham. 

Once he did, at least then he wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. Wouldn’t be responsible for keeping their homeless experience from being as hellacious as it could be. 

Because he didn’t want them to have the same experiences he did as a child. 

But… as long as he was around, they wouldn’t. 

He was sure of it. 

\- - -

Jason managed to sleep through the rest of the night, and only woke once when Damian and Mara switched out keeping watch. He hadn’t expected to be able to sleep so soundly. Outside. With minimal bedding, multiple stab wounds, and a seven-year-old octopus attached to him.

That had been what he was most concerned about, actually. The little kid. 

He tended to have nightmares. And would sometimes wake up thrashing. What if he did that while Athanasia was clinging to him? Would he hurt her?

He sure hoped not.

But amazingly, he’d slept soundly, with not a hint of a dream. 

He even let himself doze for about twenty minutes until the sun started to peek out from behind the mountains to the east.

“Rise and shine, squirts,” he said, as he sat up and stretched. His wounds, which were all pretty superficial, as far as wounds went. Scratches really, all ached as the skin tugged. But overall, he felt pretty okay. 

All that insane training really paid off, he supposed.

Athanasia frowned hard, her eyes still closed, when Jason had pushed her off to sit up, but didn’t otherwise complain. 

That is, until she started to stretch, too. 

“Jason,” she whined, letting a little bit of a cry actually seep into her voice for once, “it hurts.” 

“What hurts?” he asked, setting a hand on one of her legs to run up and down it. He assumed her entire leg was sore. 

“Everything.” 

“I’m sorry. It’ll start to feel better once you get moving around.”

“That hike was nothing,” Mara said snidely, as she stood and started to roll up her blanket, “We weren’t even running most the day.”

“The mountains weren’t even that difficult to traverse,” Damian added on. 

“Kids,” Jason exasperated, as he started collecting up his own blanket. When he noticed some dirt on one edge, he walked a few steps away to shake it off.

“I am not a child,” Damian snapped, and Jason could feel his glare even without looking at him.

“Aren’t you like eight? Pretty sure you’re a kid.” 

“I am a warrior,” Damian announced, finally standing, himself, to put away his things, “Age has nothing to do with it.”

“Uh huh. Well stop being a dick to your sister, Mr. Warrior.” 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, “That child has no right to call herself an Al Ghul. I do not understand why Mother kept her around, but I can see now why she did not inform Grandfather of her existence. She would have never survived training.”

“Mama loved me,” Athanasia whispered, and Jason could already feel a headache coming on. 

He had to remind himself that Damian was in mourning, too. 

At least, he probably was. 

He should be.

His mother just died, right in front of him. And he’d been the one adamant about trying to save her. Trying to defend her. 

Why in the ever loving fuck did he have to take it out on the baby, though?

Because, in all honesty, even if Athanasia was only a year younger than Damian… and Mara? How old even was Mara? Athanasia was definitely the least mature of the three of them.

Jason didn’t think that was a negative thing, though. Athanasia actually acted like a little kid in every facet. The other two acted like they thought they were adults trapped in the bodies of children.

Their complete lack of emotional control, however, proved they were still children. 

“Yes, well, people sometimes love _rodents,”_ Damian said snidely, “It does not mean much.” 

Athanasia’s face screwed up, like she wanted to both burst out into tears over that comment, and also possibly stab Damian. The hurt on her face, too, like Damian had betrayed her, was fairly evident to Jason.

Jason had a feeling it would be difficult to teach this stupid brat what it meant to be a brother. 

But Jason didn’t really care. He was going to drop these nuggets off at Bruce’s and call it done.

He was almost entirely certain that was his plan, now. He’d waltz up to the gate at Wayne Manor, type in the code, and push the brats through the door, then book it.

Maybe he could rent a car and just kick them all out on the sidewalk. That way he wouldn’t even have to risk being caught on the cameras _and_ he could drive off as fast as possible. 

Bruce could deal with Damian’s attitude and Athanasia's timid demeanor. Get all the kids good therapists.

What do you even say to a civilian therapist? ‘Hi, these are my assassin children from an ex-fling I had many years back that I just learned about. They want to kill everything and each other. Fix it.’ 

Jason would actually _love_ to be a fly on the wall for that conversation. 

Bruce was going to have one hell of a time explaining these kids away. 

Reading all the gossip rags was one of the few things Jason was looking forward to.

And he’d do it safe from wherever the fuck he decided to move. 

Cincinnati, maybe. 

No one would think to look for him in _Ohio._

“Damian,” he sighed, shoving his now rolled blanket and mat into his back, “Can you not?”

“He’s just jealous his mother loved a pathetic child more than she loved him,” Mara said, grinning so deviously, Jason could definitely feel that headache now. These brats sucked and were going to make his life _miserable._

Because, yep, just as he predicted, Damian growled viciously and flung himself at Mara, screaming, “How dare you speak of my Mother,” as he pulled a knife from his belt. 

Mara looked only slightly stunned, like she’d half expected Damian to do that, but wasn’t quite sure if he would in present company. 

She pulled her knife, too, and was ready to defend herself, but Jason lunged forward and planted himself right in front of Mara as he grabbed Damian and disarmed him. 

“No,” he hissed, as if he were talking to a fucking dog, “Don’t attack your fucking cousin, you brat.”

“You cannot order me around,” Damian seethed, trashing about, trying to free himself from Jason’s grip. The harder he fought, the tighter Jason wrapped his arms around Damian’s body, pinning his arms to his sides. Damian started kicking at his knees as he screamed, “Un hand me,” so Jason threw him as far as he could, again, like he were trying to stun a dog. 

And that was a terrible thing to be comparing a literal child to, but damn. This kid was acting feral. 

“We can’t afford infighting,” Jason boomed, as Damian regained his feet, “In case you _forgot,_ Ra’s will be looking for us. If we waste time fighting and creating enemies out of each other, we will never get away.”

“I never wanted to leave in the first place,” Mara said, from still behind Jason.

Stupid little brat was going to argue against Jason, but still use him as a human shield against Damian. 

He saw how it was.

“You think I wanted to get up at 2 in the fucking morning and get saddled with transporting three _brats_ to the other side of the world,” he snapped, resisting the urge to turn on her, since he did not want to put his back to Damian. 

Mara could definitely probably stab him, too, but Damian was the actual hothead at the moment. 

“No one _asked you_ to do that,” Damian snapped, “I am perfectly capable of delivering myself to my Father.” 

“Who said we were going to him? Besides, you don’t even know where he lives, you stupid brat,” Jason said, scowling at him, “and for your information, your _mother_ asked me to bring you to safety.” 

“She did not,” Damian protested, crossing his arms as he did. And yeah, he was definitely _not_ a child. Jason could roll his eyes right then.

In fact, he did. Rolled his eyes and turned to grab the food bag and his own bag. All the kids seemed pretty well packed. They’d stop and eat breakfast later, after they’d all walked this stupid fight off. “Do you honestly think I’d put up with you if she hadn’t? Now grab your shit and let’s go.”

Jason was glad he hadn’t gone ahead and dived the food up amongst their bags, like he’d considered the night before. It would be easier if all of them carried their own food, but now that he literally held the only thing guaranteeing them from starving to death, the three little brats had no choice but to grab their stuff and hurry after. 

Maybe they’d end up stabbing each other anyway, but Jason kind of highly doubted it. 

Holy fuck.

Literal eight year olds stabbing each other. Could he even trust them to be alone together?

He didn’t care. 

Nope. He did not, at all, one bit care. 

Based on the occasional crunch of gravel behind him, he knew they were there. And based on the _lack_ of growling and screaming, he figured they hadn’t actually stabbed each other. 

So, he didn’t look back. 

Maybe if he just kept marching on forward, he could spend at least a few hours pretending it was just him. 

Just him, and the desert, and the hundreds of miles of journey ahead of him. 

One night down, he told himself. 

One night down. God knew how many more ahead of him. 

He so couldn’t do this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I can keep up with weekly updates, at least for as long as this lockdown is a thing. :) I'll reevaluate once I run out of written material.


	8. Chapter Seven

Jason didn’t look back for a good 100 yards, when he finally turned to make sure there were, indeed, three children behind him. 

Damian was there, and when Jason looked at him, he scowled down at his GPS instead of meeting Jason’s eyes. 

Like they even needed the GPS at that point. 

They were following the river. It was a little hard to get lost _with a river there_. If they kept the river to their right, they’d make it out of the corridor with no problem. 

But whatever. 

Mara was beside Damian, although there was a good six feet between them. She was similarly scowling ahead and refusing to meet Jason’s eyes. 

Jason had to wonder, were those two _enemies_ or _friends?_ Based on how they were constantly sniping at and trying to stab each other, he would have assumed enemies. But then, they always ended up sitting next to each other. Walking beside each other. And even ganging up on Jason or Athanasia together. 

Maybe they were something in between?

If he could train the stabbing out of them, it would be pretty damn easy to pass them off as siblings. They were gonna need a friggen cover story before they reached Kabul, and siblings would be the absolute easiest. 

He kind of wished he’d known about these kids before yesterday morning. If only he’d had a chance to observe them prior to their worlds being turned upside down. See how they acted naturally. I’d be interesting to know.

Would have made _this_ easier, too.

Athanasia was, of course, brining up the rear. By quite the distance, actually. 

Jason slowed his pace so she could catch up, and received only nasty glares from the older two children as they passed, both refusing to slow down, themselves. 

Which was totally fine with Jason. He didn’t need them being little jerks while he spoke to Attie.

“Everything okay,” he asked, holding out a hand to Athanasia. Maybe if she held his hand, he could get her moving a little faster.

Athanasia refused it, though, and tried to speed up, but Jason could tell it was incredibly painful. She was moving almost robotically, her little legs almost wobbling in such a way that she wasn’t stretching out her calves much. 

“Still hurt?” he asked, matching her pace as they continued walking and setting a hand on top of her head. 

“Yes,” she said shortly, shaking her head free from his hand and pulling her kitty closer to her chest. 

With a shrug, Jason said, “Stretch next time we stop, and make sure you’re drinking enough water, that’ll help, okay?” 

“Fine.”

Attitude.

Hopefully just a symptom of feeling like shit and not a characteristic, because Jason would not be able to handle it if _all three kids_ were major assholes. 

“I can carry you again later to give you a break, all right?” he said, patting her on the shoulder before moving his hand completely, “But the more you move, the better you’ll feel. Being sore is good, it means you’re getting stronger.” 

“I’m strong,” she protested, turning a little scowl of her own up on Jason.

It was freaking _adorable,_ if Jason said so himself. 

“I know, I didn’t say you weren’t.” 

“I don’t need to be carried,” she insisted, picking up speed a little more to catch up with Damian and Mara. Her shoulders tensed as she started moving her legs more naturally and used those muscles more, but he wasn’t going to argue with her any more than necessary. There was absolutely nothing he could do to make the pain go away, and _maybe_ if she just worked through it, it’d get better.

He’d carry her after lunch, though. Probably. Let her take a nap on his back again. 

Jason let them all walk in silence for another twenty minutes or so, keeping all three of them in front of him. No one spoke, so neither did he. Which is actually pretty nice, but then his stomach started to grumble.

“Here, brats,” he said, after pulling out four protein bars from the food bag. When the kids turned around and slowed down to walk beside him, he handed each kid a bar and added, “eat up.” 

“Why do you get to ration our food?” Mara grumbled, tearing open her bar to take a hefty bite. 

“I’m not rationing it,” he said, opening up his own bar. It was coconut flavored, apparently. He hated coconuts. “Well, if you try to eat all the food in a day, I’ll have to, but I’m just carrying it. You were carrying it yesterday.” 

“This is gross,” Athanasia said through a full mouth. Jason hadn’t paid any attention to the flavors he pulled, just calories, but judging off the wrapper it was the same as his. And his tasted like a petroleum based artificial coconut, so he definitely agreed with her. 

“Yeah, sorry shrimp. Damian, does that thing tell you how long until we can get some real food?”

Damian looked at his GPS, then back up at Jason with a grave expression. “It will take us three additional days to simply reach the main road to Kabul. It will likely be an additional day of traveling beyond that to reach the city limits.”

So four days until they could eat something hot. 

Fantastic. 

“Well then,” he said, trying his best to sound more upbeat than he felt, “start dreaming about what kind of food you want now.” 

Steak and potatoes. That’s what Jason wanted. 

Or pizza. 

“We could hunt,” Mara said, holding her empty wrapper out for Jason to take, when he shoved his own back into the food bag, “then we could have a hot meal and a healthier source of protein.”

Jason considered it for a second, but quickly decided against it. He didn’t have a bow with him or anything, and firing off his gun would attract too much attention. They might be able to stab something to death by throwing knives, but that was unlikely to kill something in a single strike, and Jason didn’t want an animal crying to attract any attention, either.

Plus, they’d risk having the animal attack _them,_ and Jason didn’t see any good coming from that. He couldn’t protect all three of the kids at once, if that happened. Not without just shooting the damn thing, and then he was back to point one. 

_Then,_ even if they got something killed without causing a scene, they still had to cook it. 

“A fire would draw attention,” Damian said, before Jason could put the thought into words, “Are you wishing to get us executed?”

“Maybe _you_ executed,” Mara mumbled, a pout forming on her face. 

“Tt. Like Grandfather would spare _you_ and not me.” 

“You forget, it was _your Mother_ who forced-”

“Please, like Ra’s would execute _either_ of you,” Jason scoffed as he shoved the wrappers from the other two kids into the bag, “Do you honestly think he’d let any of us off that easy?”

Ra’s had said it himself: if Jason stepped out of line, he’d spend the rest of eternity suffering.

Jason didn’t quite believe him, but he wouldn’t put it past him, either. 

Being revived by the pit was painful. Jason didn’t want to relive it. 

He definitely didn’t want to relive it over and over for the rest of his life, feeling his sanity slowly dissolve. 

There’s no way Ra’s would just chop off his head. No. He’d be made into an example.

The kids? Ra’s grandchildren? Jason shuddered to think what would happen to them. But with Talia gone now, Jason doubted Slade got her to Ra’s in time for the pit to help, he wasn’t likely to kill the rest of his heirs. 

Unless he had other kids Jason didn’t know about…

It wasn’t until they’d been silent nearly a minute did Jason realize the kids had shut up at all. When he looked back down at them, both walking to his left next to each other, he saw twin startled faces. Both looking ahead, and sort of dazed.

And shit.

Maybe he shouldn’t have told two little kids that their grandfather would likely torture them for a while instead of outright kill them.

“No,” Damian eventually whispered, “it will be much worse.”

Yeah. Whoops. 

Jason was a gigantic, major asshole. Who the fuck though it was a good idea for _him_ to take care of some kids?

Before Jason could figure out how to change the subject, though, Mara made a wounded sound, then turned to Jason and shouted, “This is _your_ fault!”

 _His_ fault?

How in the ever-loving- _fuck_ was this _Jason’s_ fault?

“It’s no one’s fault,” he said, trying his damndest to not sound snarky. He couldn’t think of _who_ to pin this whole thing on. 

Except maybe Ra’s.

Definitely Ra’s. 

If Ra’s hadn’t been such an asshole demanding his granddaughters fight to the death, they wouldn’t be marching across the fucking desert. 

Ordering the death of a 7-year-old was all kinds of fucked up and for the millionth time Jason hoped Ra’s died a painful death, far, far away from Lazarus Pits. 

“It _is,”_ Mara half screamed, her voice so very, very close to sounding like she was crying. Or about to. “I didn’t want to come! _You_ made me!”

And she’s fucking welcome.

Probably not a good thing to say. 

“None of us _want_ to be here, Mara,” he decided to say, instead. Seriously, how hard was it to get through their stupid thick skulls that the _League_ wasn’t a good place to be, anyway? 

God. 

Ordered to kill a 7-year-old. 

Er, probably almost ordered, since apparently the girls hadn’t known about it yet… 

And Mara still would rather be a member of that stupid cult than not. 

Ugh.

“You _all_ wanted to leave,” she continued, actually stopping now to stomp a foot and keep yelling at Jason, “You were perfectly happy defecting!”

“I didn’t want to _defect,_ either,” Damian protested, turning to face her, “but-“

“But you were blinded by your treacherous mother’s affection,” she snapped, “And now we’re-“

“I told you not to speak about my mother,” Damian shouted back as he got closer to Mara, and Jason just stepped right there in between them, because this was about to turn stabby, he could just tell.

“Look,” he boomed, placing a hand on both the kids and pushing them away from each other, “It’s over. It’s in the past. There’s no going back, so get over it, okay?”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, then mumbled, “My mother was _not_ treacherous.” 

Mara ignored that comment and scowled up at Jason. 

It looked… a little forced, though. Based on how her expression tightened and she averted her eyes quickly, Jason would bet what she _really_ wanted to do was burst out in tears. 

But assassin child. Or something. 

Were they ever allowed to cry? Jason’s trainers always mocked him when he showed any sort of emotions. Mocking was the least terrible response, actually… 

Fucking _hell._

These were fucking _children._

As much as Jason _hated_ being out here, he was glad it was happening. Getting these kids to Bruce was probably the best thing for them. 

…right?

Mara stomped a foot, after a second, and started marching on forward. Looking at both the other kids, Jason just took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting his breath tousle his bangs a little. 

Athanasia looked up at him when Damian turned on his heels and started following Mara. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

Nodding, she offered her hand to Jason and started walking along with him, both of them taking up the rear. Damian kept his distance from Mara, which was good, because stabbing each other would not help at all. They were all going in the right direction, too, which was also good. 

He wouldn’t be able to handle Mara trying to undefect.

Hopefully she understood that this was _better._

It would be better. In a couple weeks. 

They just had to get this hard part out of the way. But at least there were no harsh trainers, no canes, and no evil dickhead grandfathers ordering children to kill each other. So yeah. Surely Mara could _see_ that. 

“What will Grandfather do if he finds us?” Athanasia asked, squeezing Jason’s hand a little as she did. 

Right. 

He’d fucking said _that._

 _“_ Don’t worry,” he replied, squeezing her hand right back and _trying_ to look as reassuring as he possibly could, “He won’t find us.” 

“But…” she whispered, then looked up at the other kids, who were so far ahead, now, Jason highly doubted they could hear Athanasia, “what if he does?” 

“He won’t kill us, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

When all Attie did was nod, a little, Jason added, “But, like I said, you don’t have to worry at all, because he _won’t_ find us. I won’t let him.”

“Because Mama told you?” she asked, looking back up at him.

“Right.” Kind of, he guessed. He would definitely protect her _for_ Talia. 

But…

Of course he would protect a kiddo like her no matter what. 

Hell, he’d protect a kid like Damian, too. Or Mara. Even _if_ the brat _had_ stabbed him when they first met. 

“Okay,” she said, her voice a little strange to his ears. It was _almost_ angry, which was a tone he hadn’t realized until that moment she hadn’t taken with him yet. 

The fuck was her _problem?_

When she let go of Jason’s hand and sped up, a little, to catch up with the other kids, Jason just sighed. 

Whatever. 

He could handle the kids like this. All walking forward. All staying a little apart from each other. No sniping. No stabbing. 

It was almost pleasant. 

That’s probably why he let them walk for another several hours before he _finally_ said, “Okay, kiddos. Let’s stop and take a stretch break, yeah?” From his approximation, it was about 1pm, and he’d been watching Athanasia’s limp get steadily worse. She really needed a break. Probably a long one. 

On his back.

Asleep.

After leading the kids through a stretching routine, stopping to correct Athanasia’s posture several times, and Damian’s once, much to Mara’s amusement, he hopped up and grabbed the food bag.

“Okie dokie,” he said, forcing as much cheerfulness he could into his voice. The triplet blank expressions he got for the effort made him falter a little, but not much. “Do you guys want jerky or trail mix?” 

“What’s trail mix,” Damian asked, after a beat, neither him nor the other kids actually getting up to follow him. So Jason just carried the bag back to where they were.

“It’s like nuts and raisins and shit,” he said, dropping down in front of the kids and zipping the bag open so he could hold the large bag of trail mix up, “See?”

He’d probably give them _both_ trail mix _and_ jerky, now that he thought about it, but they could start with the treat. 

Jason looked into the bag longingly for, like, something to clean his hands with. In the end, he just dumped a little bit of water onto his hands and got most the dirt off, wiping it off on his tunic. 

It was absolutely not good enough, but at least he wouldn’t be getting dirt inside the sealed bags of food. The trail mix was too full to be able to easily pour a little out to each kid, so he had to physically scoop out handfuls. 

“Hands,” he said, when he grabbed a generous handful and held it out to Mara, who was sitting on the left. She took the food without complaint. Damian, on the other hand, refused to hold his hands out for a good half second, as he looked at Jason’s hand appraisingly, like he were honestly contemplating refusing to eat food Jason had touched. 

He must have realized he had no fucking choice, because he reluctantly held his hands out, and let Jason deposit the food. Attie took her handful eagerly, and smiled widely when she saw what all was in the mix.

Jason ignored them as he got his own. It was a bit of a production, trying to hold his own handful while getting the bag zipped back up, but he somehow managed with only dropping a couple pieces into his tunic. 

Then, he realized why Athanasia had smiled, because he was a little more than pleased to find tiny chunks of chocolate in the trail mix. 

He’d assumed all the darker chunks were raisins, which were already treat enough for him, but this was great. There were only three pieces in his handful, but again, way more than he was expecting.

At least there was _something_ to look forward to for the next few days.

“I like the brown pieces,” Mara said, as if echoing Jason’s thoughts, “they are both sweet and bitter. What are they?”

“It’s chocolate,” Athanasia said incredulously. Jason watched as she very carefully ate around her chocolate pieces, just like Jason was doing. Saving the best for last. “You haven’t had _chocolate_ before?”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, rolling his eyes, “Sweets are a reward. Mara has never earned a reward in her life. How could she?”

Before Jason could groan, Mara put on the most ridiculous pout and said, “I’ve had _sweets.”_

“Did you steal them from the kitchen?” Damian shot back, and based on how Mara’s pout shifted to a scowl, Jason figured that was probably exactly what she did. 

“Do not pretend you _didn’t.”_

The little smirk Damian offered in response got Jason to actually _laugh._

Like, aloud and everything. 

“What?” Athanasia asked, smiling a little, herself. 

“Nothing,” he said, finishing off the last of the almonds, before moving on to the raisins. All he had left were his raisins and chocolates, which was a little disappointing, but he’d get out a couple more things to help fill out a good lunch for them all. 

Or, well, at least a _filling_ lunch. 

Maybe these kids weren’t as fucked as he thought they were, either.

Jason had fond memories of pretending to be a secret agent as he sneaked into Alfred’s kitchen to steal cookies from the jar or, once, straight off the cooling rack. 

He doubted Mara and Damian had played pretend, or hummed the James Bond theme to themselves as they did it, but at least they _did_ it. 

And in just a few weeks, they could start sneaking treats from Alfred’s kitchen, too. Assuming Bruce takes them and everything.

Yeah. Maybe they weren’t quite as hopeless as he thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of right now I still plan on another chapter next week. :D 
> 
> It's looking like I'm on lockdown until the end of April still.... I live in New York and we are for sure locked down through the end of next week, but my work is going through the paperwork to be closed through May, because that's what we're anticipating.... Joy. I'm pretty sure I can do a chapter of this every week (I'm at the point of actually having to write each week. 1600 of these words I wrote today) and a chapter of The Best Things each week. Once I go back to work, we'll see if this has to go back to biweekly. I hope it doesn't. I really love this world. :D
> 
> Thanks for all your amazing comments last week! <3\. They really helped lift my spirits, I love y'all so much! Thanks for reading today! Hope you all are hanging in there wherever you are! <3


	9. Chapter Eight

The rest of the day went in mostly silence, to Jason’s utter relief. He didn’t have to deal with them talking, or fighting, or stabbing, or anything. It was… almost nice. Could have been, at least, if they weren’t marching across a desert.

Whats worse was they encountered several villages during the day, so ended up hiking further away from the river than comfortable. Which meant a lot of scaling up and down steep hills. But if Jason was right, they were also gradually descending, which was nice.

Because being so high up was really exhausting.

Jason had been living high up in the mountains for a year, but he still felt winded, sometimes, due to the elevation. He figured it was just a remnant from living the entirety of his life at sea level. To be up at something like 15,000 feet, now, was staggering.

Somehow, amazingly, Athanasia kept on walking the entire day. Jason didn’t hear a peep from her, not that she often made peeps, anyway. But after her whining that morning, she hadn’t said a single word about any of her muscles hurting.

After they stopped for a break sometime about two hours before sunset, though, Jason could tell she was struggling.

She sat down on the ground and stared vacantly out into the distance the entire time they sipped at their newly refilled water.

Jason sat down next to her and handed her a strip of jerky, hoping to engage her a little. Maybe cheer her up some. He’d already given the other two kids their food, and they were each sitting about ten feet away, idly chewing on their jerky and drinking their water.

For kids who acted like they hated each other, Jason found it endlessly amusing how often they chose each other to sit next to.

Athanasia took the jerky, but didn’t begin eating it right off.

“Everything okay?” he asked, stretching his legs out in front of him as he leaned back on one arm. _He_ was feeling a little sore from all the walking. He could only imagine how Attie was feeling, now that she had nearly two full days of walking under her.

Athanasia blinked slowly, but did eventually nod her head. After a second, it’s like she realized she had food, and slowly took a bite of the jerky.

The kid looked _exhausted._

Sticking the last of his jerky in his mouth, Jason set his now free hand on Athanasia’s back and started rubbing circles. “You want me to carry you for a while?”

“I can do it,” she whispered, between slow, methodical bites, “I’m not a baby.”

“Didn’t say you were,” Jason hummed, “just thought you could use a rest.”

“I can do it,” she said again, a little more forcefully.

Jason sighed, but pat at her back and said, “Okay,” before he stood up, about ready to keep moving. After a quick bathroom break, and encouraging the kids to do the same, although Athanasia claimed she ‘didn’t have to,’ Jason slung his bags back on his back.

His shoulders were as sore as they’d ever been, but he couldn’t ditch anything they had in the bags. And he couldn’t ask the kids to carry the food bag more than necessary. He could tell their own backpacks were causing them enough trouble, as was.

“Let’s go, squirts,” he said, as soon as everyone had put their bags back on. Athanasia still hadn’t stood, but she’d put her cat back inside her backpack and looked ready to go.

Damian and Mara started hiking west, before Attie even stood.

“Come on,” he said to her, offering a hand to help her up.

Athanasia refused it, and pushed herself onto her feet. As she did, her face contorted, and her legs seemed to almost spasm when she tried to straighten them out.

It had to hurt a whole _hell_ of a lot. And not for the first time, Jason wished Talia had packed some pain killers. Giving this little girl some Tylenol was pretty much the only thing he wanted to do at that moment.

That and kill Ra’s for forcing this trip in the first place.

And yell at Talia for keeping Attie secret as she did.

And Ra’s again for forcing she be kept secret.

And maybe Bruce for not knowing he had two fucking kids being raised in a cult.

Yelling at people would be fun.

But it would not fix the pain Athanasia was in at that moment.

“Okay, kiddo you need to let me carry you.”

“I can do it,” she said, a tad louder than she’d spoken so far, and absolutely defiantly. It made Jason smile, a little, to know she _could_ talk at a more normal level.

“If you keep pushing yourself, you’ll just make it worse. You need to rest.”

Athanasia scowled at him, then started limping off toward Mara and Damian, who hadn’t stopped _completely,_ but were clearly waiting for them to catch up.

Jason sighed, loudly. He had to take a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Because this stupid brat was going to be the death of him.

He could see how much pain she was in, why the fuck wouldn’t she just let him carry her?

Fuck if someone offered to carry _him_ he might say yes, at that point. _He_ was exhausted.

Heaven knew he let Bruce carry him piggyback whenever he was tired. Back when he was little and Bruce was still pretending to care about him.

Why the fuck did his thoughts always go back to _him._

“Fine, whatever, suffer then,” he said, slinging the food bag back up on his back. He stomped on ahead, catching up with the other kids.

They walked for about a mile before he finally looked back at Athanasia. She’d managed to keep up with them, but Jason could tell it was difficult.

She was limping, still, like she was trying not to stretch her calf muscles as she walked. It made her kind of hobble after them. When Jason slowed down, and she got a little closer, he could see the tear tracks running down her face.

Jason stopped short and glared up at the sky.

Fuck this and fuck everything.

 _“_ All right,” he said, walking back toward her in about five long strides, “that’s enough of that.”

Athanasia yelped when Jason scooped her up in his his arms, but relaxed almost as soon as he settled her down, carrying her bridal style. “Put me down,” she said, her voice lacking any sort of anger or emotion needed to make that sound remotely threatening.

“Nope,” he said, shifting her weight a little more. With her, her backpack, the food bag, _and_ his bag, he was carrying quite the load. But if they only walked for another hour, he could probably make it. And if he couldn’t, then they could always stop for the night a little early.

“Put me down,” she whined a little harder, feigning an attempt at getting out of Jason’s hold. After struggling for barely half a second, she added, “I’m not a baby.”

“No one said you were,” he said, adjusting her a little in his arms so she could snuggle down and maybe nap some. If she fell asleep, it’d be way easier on Jason. He wouldn’t have to deal with her. “Just rest, Attie. You did good today, you should be proud.”

Athanasia froze and blinked at him, the little scowl she’d adopted slipping right off her face. The way she scrutinized him made him wonder whether she didn’t believe him, or something. But after a second, she relaxed. Jason only had to jostle her a little to get her to rest her head down and close her eyes.

Predictably, she was out within a minute, and Jason kept walking.

They only walked for another hour, since that was about all Jason could take. He shifted Athanasia around in his arms a few times, and finally ended with her head on his shoulder, his arms holding her body close as if she were a toddler being carried around, and not a much larger seven-year-old.

Damian and Mara were amazingly silent about it, too. Jason could tell they were just as exhausted as he was.

It’d been a long fucking two days.

Mara pulled Athanasia’s mat out of her bag and laid it out, all without Jason prompting. He tried his best to smile at her in thanks, but it probably fell flat because she just rolled her eyes.

Whatever.

“Let’s make sure we stretch,” Jason said, after freeing himself of all the bags. “We’re going to regret it if we neglect it.”

Mara nodded at him, and immediately sat down to stretch. Damian considered him for a moment, then sat and and joined him, as well.

He’d kind of expected Athanasia to wake up, now that he’d put her down, but she was out cold. Silent, even in her sleep, but breathing deeply nonetheless, completely oblivious to the world.

Jason envied her ability to sleep so soundly. He hadn’t been anything less than an ultra-light sleeper in a year.

Really not since his mother died and he’d ended up out on the street, if he were being honest. Even at the Manor he’d never become a true heavy sleeper.

“You should teach Athanasia how to stretch,” Damian commented after a minute of stretching, pausing to take a long sip of his water, “She is dead weight if she cannot walk. She will get us captured.”

“It’s her fault we’re out here in the first place,” Mara pointed out, like that even mattered.

“Damian, Mara,” Jason sighed, sitting up from where he’d been hugging onto his legs, stretching out his back muscles. Somehow, they seemed to be the worst out of everything. He was going to blame his duffle bag for that.

“She’s just a little girl, none of this is her fault.”

“This is entirely her fault,” Damian spat, slamming his water bottle down on the ground next to him, “had she not been so helpless, Mother would not have felt the need to protect her by running. She would have faced Mara as Grandfather desired. He might not have even required it be to the death. He has Mara and me duel frequently, and always stops us before we cause permanent damage. Mother overreacted, because Athanasia is weak.”

“Damian, she’s seven,” Jason said in disbelief. What was honestly so hard to grasp about that?

“And we are eight, what is your point?” Mara said.

Good to know.

“You guys are just little kids. It’s kind of fucked up you’ve been as trained as you are, to be honest.”

“I am a warrior,” Damian said, “bred to succeed my Grandfather as Demon’s head, and my Father as Batman.”

Mara scowled at him, and said, “Grandfather would never allow you to succeed him, now. Your entire bloodline has proved to be treacherous snakes.”

“I did not see you fighting my Mother to remain very hard, Cousin,” Damian sniped back.

Mara growled but before she could say anything, Jason said, “Yeah, yeah, we’re all traitors, blah blah. Damian, don’t you think it’s pretty messed up you were ‘bred’ to do anything? Most kids aren’t ‘bred’ for specific purposes. They’re just…. Born.”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, lifting one arm above his head as he started to stretch his shoulders, “children without purpose are _useless_ and a drain on society.”

“Children’ aren’t supposed to be _useful,_ they’re supposed to be _protected.”_

Like, _holy fuck._

Was this seriously what _Talia_ taught her _children?_

Then again…

Bruce wasn’t much better, if Jason really thought about it. Jason hadn’t been a child in years, though, when Bruce caught him stealing his tires. So maybe it didn’t count, even though Bruce did technically kidnap him just to make him Robin. And being Robin had been a lot of training and giving Jason a _purpose_ in life. Something maybe 12-year-old him didn’t need.

Considering it led to his death and all.

But no. No. That was _vastly_ different from the training and purpose _Damian_ had been given. Mara, too, maybe. It kind sounded like she’d been on the same training regiment as Damian, just perhaps without the whole ‘succeed Batman thing.’

Funny.

Jason wondered if Batman knew about his replacement-in-training.

He highly, highly, _highly_ doubted it.

“Then why have them?” Damian challenged, glowering hard at Jason. Mara, too, seemed curious about the answer, but perhaps in a less angry way than Damian.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He was fairly certain _he_ personally had been an accident.

No, he knew that to be the case outright.

But Catherine had still loved him, even though she hadn’t given birth to him.

Adoption was a thing.

He’d even been convinced Bruce loved him there for a while. Bruce certainly loved _Grayson_.

And many parents struggled for years to have children, then rejoice when their little one finally comes.

Why did parents have children? Perhaps to carry on the next generation. To continue the family name. To have companionship in their old age. For the mere joy of raising them, watching them grow and learn, turn into great people one day.

But most simply, “Because they love them.”

Damian rolled his eyes rather dramatically, then huffed out, “That is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason drawled, rolling to his feet so he could stand, “Regardless. Athanasia is your little sister. You need to be a little less of a dick to her, got it?”

“Tt.”

“I mean it. You’re her big brother, it’s your job to protect her.”

“It’s every man for himself,” Damian sneered, “if you wish to weaken yourself by protecting her, then that is your decision. But _I_ will not risk myself for a helpless child.”

“Oi,” Jason mumbled, grabbing all the water bottles as he stomped off, “you brats are gonna be the death of me.”

“Precisely my point,” Damian hollered after him.

Jason just grit his teeth and walked down to the well they’d passed on their way to camp.

Bruce could teach him about family loyalty. Or… or Alfred. Alfred would be a better teacher of that lesson. He’d just focus on getting them _there_ alive, and leave the rest up to them.

He just wished they’d speak kinder to each other.

Or not speak at all…

\- - -

After the sun set, and Mara and Damian had both laid out their beds and wound down for the night, Jason finally pulled out one last snack for each of them to eat.

He was liking this ‘grazing’ they were doing. It kept him from feeling too full at any point, but was also staving off hunger. It was nice. Talia had, indeed, packed plenty of food for them, even doing this method.

Since none of the kids had complained, he figured they were okay with it, too.

He considered waking Athanasia to eat, but was afraid if he did so, she wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep any time soon. In the end, he just set a granola bar next to her on her mat, hoping that if she woke in the middle of the night hungry, she’d see the food and eat it.

“I can take second watch this time,” Jason said, watching as Damian and Mara both started to settle down for the night, “That way I’m the one splitting my sleep.” He felt a little bad he was making literal eight-year-olds break up their sleep like that. It probably wasn’t the best practice for getting restful sleep.

“Because you can be trusted to not fall back asleep after being woken,” Damian huffed, curling up under his blanket.

It was hilarious how _tiny_ that made him look.

It was _not_ hilarious how much of a _prick_ he was.

“Kay, whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes, “which brat am I waking up then?”

“I can-“ Mara started, but Damian cut her off harshly with a glare.

“I trust _you_ even less,” he snapped, “I will take the second shift.”

Mara half pouted, half glared back at Damian, but then flipped over in a huff, putting her back to all of them.

“Yes, your majesty,” Jason said, shaking his head as he did. God help him, because he did not want to murder his first child this week.

With a deep breath, he told himself as long as they all got sleep, it didn’t really matter who took a shift when. Damian would probably be a prick regardless of how much sleep he got.

“Tt,” Damian huffed, but didn’t say anything further.

Jason set his bed back next to Athanasia, expecting her to cuddle close to him again. It didn’t happen immediately, but even though she was still dead asleep, it was like she’d sensed his body heat. As the night went on, she gravitated toward him.

When Jason woke Damian to take his turn, and lay down fully, Athanasia basically rolled on top of him, and started using him as a pillow.

Somehow, he didn’t really mind.

It was slightly relaxing to know that at least one of the kids was safe, without even opening his eyes.

And maybe a little comforting, to have her weight there. Warm and moving.

Jason hated how much they were growing on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I said in a while how amazing Kasyfairtaillover is? Cause she is. She's my beta and she's read every single chapter of this fic and really helped me out a lot. This fic is the most revised fic I've ever written (so far). Like for real, some of those first chapters got 5-6 revisions, and she did a lot of reading and commenting on them. She's great! I love her. Thanks Kasy :D :D :D 
> 
> I'll continue to strive for weekly, but that might not always happen. Thanks for reading and commenting y'all! ❤️❤️❤️


	10. Chapter Nine

Something startled Jason from his sleep. 

More than startle. Whatever it was, it caused him to sit straight up and look around frantically. And he wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. 

“What is it?” Mara whispered, anxiety seeping into her voice as she, too, looked around. Obviously she hadn’t thought anything was off, as the one officially keeping watch.

“Jason?” Athanasia whispered, scrubbing at her eyes. Jason must have pushed her off rather suddenly when he woke. He didn’t remember doing that, but he doubted she _hadn’t_ been sleeping against his chest.

“Shh,” he hissed at both of them, now stirring Damian from his sleep. 

Then, Jason saw it.

Off in the distance. 

A light. 

Or, perhaps, lights. And they were moving. Like they were spotlights. 

Searching the earth.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed, in as quiet as a voice he could, “Up, up, up,” he said, leaping to his feet and rolling his blanket up incredibly sloppily and shoving it into his bag. 

The kids sprang to action, each one storing their blankets at quickly as possible, too. The mats were more difficult, with them needing to be deflated, but they managed to get them packed away within a minute. 

Something about seeing Jason panicked seemed to get the kids in gear. 

“What is it?” Damian asked, as he zipped up his backpack. 

Jason helped Athanasia shove her mat into her bag, then took quick inventory of their stuff. Mara had her bag, Damian had his, Attie hers, obviously, and he had both his duffle and the food bag. Everyone had shoes and there was no stuffed cat sitting on the ground. 

“Search party,” he said, as he placed a hand on Mara and Athanasia, the two kids closest, and pushed them westward, “Run.” 

That seemed to do the trick. All three kids took off, and Jason matched their pace, as they started running through the country side.

There was nothing left sitting in their campsite, and since they hadn’t left anything behind _ever_ on this hike, it was highly unlikely they were being tracked. 

Jason really hoped that’s what this was. He’d not noticed any sort of tracking device on any of their luggage, but it’s not like it was hard to hide those sorts of things. For all he knew there were trackers in each of their boots. 

But hopefully that wasn’t the case. Hopefully they were just traveling down the valley, searching it. It’s not like it was _hard_ to notice four kids hiking along, after all. The terrain was very sparse. They’d been staying far enough away from the villages and shepherds that the structures and people looked like tiny dots, knowing that they, too, would look like little dots to people inside. Hoping that would be enough to escape notice. 

So far it had been.

He knew it wouldn’t be enough for these people. As soon as they got close enough for their lights to show them, they’d be found.

Maybe, if they could find someplace to hide, this search party would pass right by them. 

As they ran, Jason started looking around for a good spot. Something like a cave would be ideal, but they could also choose some rocks, or perhaps even a well. If the party didn’t stop to use the well, that is… 

They hadn’t passed very many caves during their entire journey thus far. Lots of large rocks, and even more long, sparse terrain.

Honestly, this part of Afghanistan was the absolute worst for trying to hide in. They’d been extraordinarily lucky there weren’t very many hikers out this way. 

“There,” Jason said, once he saw a rock formation that seemed to have an opening just barely large enough that he thought he could squeeze inside. If nothing else, he knew the children could fit. 

That is, if it created a cave-like structure, like he was praying. It looked man-constructed, but not currently used.

Pulling a flashlight from his bag, Jason knelt down at the opening and shown his light inside. 

There was evidence animals had used the shelter, in the past. Lots of dirt, and some spiderwebs inside, but the cavern was, thankfully, currently unoccupied. 

And it looked just barely large enough to fit all four of them in there. If they squeezed in and got to know each other a little more. 

Looking around, Jason found another rock he thought he’d be able to position right in front of the opening from the inside, to hide the fact that this was anything but a few rocks. 

“Inside,” he said, pulling Mara’s backpack off her as he ushered her inside. 

Mara crawled in, as requested, then dragged her bag in behind her. Damian followed after her, and Jason didn’t hear a single word of protest from those two as he knew they huddled close to make room for Athanasia, too. 

Once Attie was inside, Jason shoved both his bags in and started moving the rock closer to the opening.

“You’re coming in with us, right?” Damian said, a touch panicked when he must have realized what Jason was doing. 

Heh. So much for ‘every man for himself.’

“Yeah,” he whispered, “just a second.” He took the rope he’d pulled from his bag and wrapped it around the rock, then tied it in a loop and tossed the slack inside the opening. 

As gracefully as he could, he squeezed himself through the tiny opening. It took contorting his shoulders in such a way that his upper body fit, but he just managed to get inside. “Sorry,” he said, when he kicked one of the kids, he wasn’t sure which, in his strange flip around maneuver, but whoever it was didn’t complain. 

They were too scared, he was sure. 

He was a little glad it was too fucking dark inside the cave to see their faces. He just knew it would make him want to punch something. 

Once he’d found a comfortable enough position where his arms were free, Jason grabbed onto the rope and pulled the rock the rest of the way in front of the opening. It took a minute, and a lot of strength, but it did finally close it off, fully enveloping their hiding place in darkness. 

That was a good sign.

If not even a touch of moonlight was making it inside, he was fairly certain the search party would not find them there. 

Jason felt along the rope until he found his knot, then quickly untied it and pulled the rope inside, effectively hiding the fact that the rock had been moved at all. He doubted the gravel outside would show enough evidence of it’s movement to attract attention. 

After that, Jason lay on his back, his legs squished up against the wall beside him, and all three kids huddled together next to him. Each of them small enough that they could sit up, if only a little hunched over. Jason knew, based on how much space he had, that each of them had to be squished up next to each other, and he was kind of grateful they were having the opportunity to sit like that _without_ drawing knives on one another. 

Bonding.

They were bonding.

If it weren’t so fucking terrifying, he’d think it was nice. 

As quietly as he could, Jason reached into his weapons bag and pulled out his favorite glock, then chambered a round, setting it down in the small opening they’d all crawled in through, so none of the kids could accidentally kick it, and he’d be able to grab it quickly. 

If someone move that rock, they were going to get a face full of lead. Like hell was Jason going down without a fight.

The silence in the dwelling stretched on for what felt like an eternity. The kids were all remarkably good at being quiet. Athanasia, as Jason kept being reminded, most so. He could hear Damian and Mara both moving around, minutely, but he could only hear _two._ And that was only because he knew to listen for them.

He knew they were all being silent enough that no one would be able to hear them from outside the rocks. 

In fact, it was so silent, Jason started to hear his own heartbeat, right in his ears. He was able to count it, using it to tell time. Counting the minutes as they stretched by. 

It took fifteen minutes for the sound of horses to be heard, off in the distance. One of the kids fidgeted against him then, and another took in a long, sharp breath. Almost a gasp.

It sounded like a girl, although Jason wasn’t quite sure why he thought that. It would make sense for Attie to be terrified, however. She was the least able to defend herself. 

Not that any of them would be able to defend themselves well, stuck inside this cave. 

Regardless, Jason reached out blindly to where the little gasp had come from, and found a knee to set his hand on. Considering no one stabbed him, it had to be Athanasia. He squeezed her knee, a little, hoping it would be enough to keep her grounded and calm.

As long as they remained quiet, everything would be fine. 

The galloping hooves drew nearer, and to Jason’s momentary panic, actually started to slow the closer they got to their hiding place. 

When they stop entirely someplace near the rocks, Jason’s heart nearly stopped. 

Surely they hadn’t seen them, had they?

Had they just trapped themselves in a _very_ tight, cramped corner?

Doomed themselves to their fates?

Perhaps they should have kept running. 

Fuck fuckity fuck _fuck._

He promised these kids he’d protect them from Ra’s and he might have just _handed them right over._

The knee in his hand started trembling, a little, so he started running his thumb back and forth, hoping that _maybe_ focusing on something would help him stay calm, too.

Panicking was not going to help _anything._ With his other hand, he slowly and silently grabbed the gun and held it ready, so he could shoot if necessary.

“There is nothing here,” someone said, from just outside. A pebble thudded across the gravel, then clattered against the outside of one of their walls, “Your eyes are playing tricks.”

A quiet gasp came from right beside him, and Jason knew that was one of the other kids. Damian, maybe. He wanted to shush them. Tell them to shut up, but the kid he was holding shifted, slightly, and leaned in toward the child gasping.

Jason knew exactly why they were scared.

These men were speaking in Arabic. Particularly in the dialect of the League. 

They were, without a doubt, being tracked.

“There was movement in this area,” someone else said, from the opposite side of the rocks.

“Perhaps it was rats.”

“We would not have seen rats from that distance,” another voice added. 

“We found one of their snacks not two miles back. They have to be around here somewhere.”

Jason’s tally was up to four people, and at the sound of that, he had to close his eyes. 

He’d completely forgotten about Athanasia’s dinner. 

God. He was so _stupid._ If they got caught, this was 100% completely and _totally_ his fault.

But four men? They could take four men, right?

“Unless that was dropped earlier,” the voices outside continued.

“How would they have made it much farther in a day?”

“They could be on horse. There is no telling how well prepared Lady Talia was.”

“But they are not traveling with Lady Talia.”

Jason jumped, slightly, when someone kicked the makeshift door he’d created, causing it to move, just slightly. He froze there, staring at what was the opening of their cave, for a long minute as the world around them went silent again.

He could feel his finger twitch against the gun’s side, ready to reach for the trigger and pull, should that rock move completely out of the way. Should the moonlight from outside expose their hideout. A face appear and peer in.

It took a lot of strength not to immediately pull the trigger right then. Instead, he brushed his thumb across Athanasia’s knee again, hoping that in reassuring _her_ that everything was okay, he could reassure himself, too.

The silence seemed to stretch, and he could feel the hand in his start to tremble. 

No one took a breath. No one said a word. No one moved a muscle.

And after a long minute had passed, someone outside said, “We are wasting time. Master will have our heads if we do not return with the traitors. We should move on.”

After another excruciatingly long moment, the sound of scuffling outside quieted, only to be replace by horses trotting off. It took another minute for all the horses to begin moving, and finally start to run, off in the direction of where he and the kids were heading.

None of them spoke for several long moments. Jason kept caressing the side of Athanasia’s knee, and he could feel the tension bleed out of her the longer he kept it up… and the further away the horses got. 

And, then, it was like the bubble burst, and all the tension in the air dissipated. Jason let out a long, slow breath, and pat at Athanasia’s knee, then removed his hand. “See,” he said, “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Who dropped a snack,” Damian hissed, from right at Jason’s side. Now he knew Damian was in the middle, between the two girls. That’s what he’d figured.

“Guilty,” Jason whispered back, only to get kicked in the side before he could finish defending himself, “Ow, you stupid brat. I got it out for _your_ sister and then forgot about it.”

“I thought she was your sister, too,” Mara said, and to Jason’s astonishment, _she_ was the child sitting right by his head. Not Athanasia. 

Patting at Mara’s leg again, Jason said, “yeah, kid. Sure. But we’re not like, full blood siblings or anything.”

And, technically, they weren’t siblings at all. But Talia and her stupid mouth. If he hadn’t been appreciating all the brats dropping the whole ‘servant’ shit, he would have already set them straight. If them thinking he was their half brother or whatever was the price he paid for _that,_ he’d take it. It’s not like it would matter once they got to Gotham, anyway. 

Drop the kids off and wash his hands of this entire debacle. 

“Now what do we do?” Mara asked, once the silence had stretched on too long. Her voice was still a hoarse whisper, and Jason didn’t blame her for wanting to keep quiet. 

He almost loathed to climb out of their hiding place. It was still dark out, and really they hadn’t received enough sleep.

If Athanasia had struggled to keep up the day before, it was going to _suck_ if they started hiking right then. 

Plus, with those ninjas out looking for them, Jason was afraid they’d back track some and notice the four of them. There was no telling how quickly they were moving. If they were combing the valley carefully, they could easily spend the rest of the night checking every single hiding place. 

The absolute last thing Jason wanted was to face Ra’s ninjasthat night. 

Or ever. 

“Can you guys get comfortable enough to sleep?” he asked, fully aware that while he was lying on his back, those three were curled basically into balls, their backpacks squished between their bodies and their knees. His bag was, at least, under his legs. 

“You want us to fall asleep in this indefensible position?” Damian asked, scandalized.

“Do you see a better option?” Jason challenged. 

“They clearly are not aware we are here,” Mara reasoned, as she shifted around, obviously trying to find a more comfortable position to sit. When she’d basically curled up like a cat on her side, her backpack laying on top of her, as far as Jason could tell, she added, “might as well sleep. They’ll wake us up if they come back, anyway. They weren’t exactly quiet.”

“No one ever finds sleeping children hiding in a small place,” Athanasia whispered, and Jason figured she’d probably know.

They _were_ crammed in there. From the outside, it definitely looked too small for _four_ people to be hiding. And that was assuming it was a cave. Clearly the ninjas thought it was just a couple rocks. There were rocks sporadically throughout the valley. It looked no different than any other cluster, with the ‘door’ blocking the only large gap. 

Once again, Jason was sharply reminded of what Attie must have gone through the previous seven years. 

He’d hidden before, sure. Many times, back when living on the street. Found dumpsters to hide inside. Alleys to curl up in. Bushes and crates and crawl spaces he was able to use as temporary shelter from whomever he was running. But that phase of his life had only lasted about a year. Then he was rescued, and never again had to hidehis _very existence_ from people. 

That is, until that very moment. 

But Athanasia? She’d been doing it her entire life. Never once was she able to tell people she existed. Her _existing_ was a crime. It would get her _killed._ From the time she was an infant. 

Jason kind of wanted to pull her into a hug, at that very thought. 

He hated how soft she was making him. 

But he couldn’t be soft. Not right now.

Because, now, all four of them would be killed if anyone knew they existed. If they were there. 

“They’ve already searched this area,” Jason said, still whispering so hopefully not to attract any attention to the rocks. Since he couldn’t see outside to see if anyone was around. “They won’t check back here, so it’s safe to sleep here.”

“Do you think they will double back tomorrow?” Mara asked, as Damian started shifting around. He ended up turning completely around and resting back against Jason, using him basically as a pillow. Jason had no illusion that it was a display of affection, but rather was simply the best option Damian saw for getting comfortable.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t set the gun down to reach up and ruffle his hair. 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, swatting Jason’s hand away as he answered, “They would be wise to, but Grandfather’s men are hardly wise.” 

Mara snorted in response, and Jason couldn’t help but smile a little. 

“True,” he agreed, then rubbed at his eyes. “You good, Attie? Can you sleep for a few more hours?”

“Yes,” she responded tersely, and Jason just sighed. Whatever. Two kids in okay-ish moods was victory enough. 

Athanasia did, however, turn around and use Jason as a pillow, too. Or, kind of did. She shoved her backpack up against his and ended up curling up right next to him, her head touching his leg. 

“Night, night,” he whispered, reaching down and scratching her head, just like he’d done for Damian. She didn’t bat him away like he had, but she didn’t react much to it either. 

Somehow, with the quiet sounds of three sleeping kids, Jason finally nodded off about an hour later, and slept dreamlessly, the weight of Damian against him, and the heat from the girls beside him, keeping him grounded enough to stave off the nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy day early? I finished this chapter up actually on Saturday :D And I've been working on the next few. Still going strong on that weekly plan. 
> 
> I hope everyone is doing okay in this quarantine/lockdown. I got a cooler, actually interesting project from work today to start working on so I'm excited about that. But I still hope NY opens back up soon-ish. I live upstate where we don't have many cases and I'm growing tired of sitting around my apartment. :( This is week six but it feels like year three. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! I thought this chapter was pretty exciting. :) I'd guess we have about 7 more chapters of escape, and then we move into the second part of the fic. I have not decided if I'm going to pause and write up a bunch like I did with part one, or just dive right in and keep going, writing each chapter as I go. I wanted to spend April doing another 'nanowrimo' style thing, and I was doing pretty good, but I fell behind the past few days, and writing The Best Things really adds a lot to my word count, so I haven't really been dedicating the word count I wanted to this. Maybe next month I'll try again! 
> 
> Comments always appreciated. ❤️


	11. Chapter Ten

Jason woke to the sounds of birds just overhead. He jumped awake, actually, completely startled by the sound of a bird directly overhead. It’s cawing like a scream, jarring enough to jolt him from a deep, restful sleep.

He hit his head on something _hard_ as he did, unable to fully sit up because of it. And when he came to his senses enough to try and _see_ what was in the way, he realized he couldn’t _see_ anything. 

Because it was fucking _dark._

 _Dark_ and _small_ and, and-

Just like… just like…

Damian, who had still been curled up on top of him, jumped as well, and sat up quickly, asking, “What is it?”

With a breath, Jason lowered himself back down, and took a second to collect himself. Damian was there. In their cave. And he could feel Mara and Athanasia, too, both of them near enough that he could sense the heat coming off them. 

Actually, the entire cave was freaking hot. 

“Fucking bird,” Jason mumbled, scrubbing at his face, trying to fully calm his racing heart back down. The girls had both woken, he could tell, because Mara was letting out a deep breath, as if yawning as she stretched, and Athanasia was pushing against Jason’s legs to help herself sit up. 

Jason took a deep breath, then held it as he listened to their surroundings. The kids all seemed to get what he was doing, because they all became unnaturally silent as they observed. 

Aside from the stupid bird, there didn’t seem to be any movement around them. No weird crunching of gravel, no heavy breathing, no horses snorting.

As far as Jason could tell, they were alone out there. 

With another steadying breath, Jason whispered, “you kids ready to face the outside world?” Because Jason sure as fuck was ready to get out of the cave.

“It is inevitable,” Damian drawled. 

“Right. Let’s get this over with then.” 

Jason took his gun and pushed it a little further through their opening, then tried to figure out how to move the rock. He could reach it okay, but couldn’t really put any real force on it in order to move it out of their way. 

“We’re gonna have to shuffle around,” he grunted, as he pushed as hard as he could against the rock, “I need to push against the back wall, I think.”

“Don’t collapse the entire thing on top of us,” Mara hissed, and Jason rubbed at his face.

“Then what do you suggest, all knowing one?” 

“I could push it out of the way,” she said, almost irritably, as if Jason had already annoyed her to exasperation. Five seconds after waking up. Oi, these brats. “With you helping push me toward the rock.”

“But don’t press up against the wall behind us?” Jason said skeptically. He could try, he supposed. She _was_ smaller, and would have a much easier time pressing. She wouldn’t need to brace herself, either, if Jason held onto her feet and let her push against his hands. 

In the end, after some serious shuffling of the three kids and Jason, Mara positioned herself to push the rock out of the way, and Jason pushed on her feet as hard as he could without putting pressure on the rock behind them. It took a second, but they were able to move the rock, and Mara was the first to crawl out. 

“It’s clear,” she said, in a normal voice after she’d rolled to her feet as quickly as possible and surveyed their surroundings.

Jason wasn’t, at all, happy that she’d been the first _out,_ but all’s well that ends well, he supposed. 

Slowly, the rest of them crawled out from their little cave, and Damian shoved all their bags out after them before following himself. They spent a few minutes running through some stretches, since each one of them were sore from being so crammed up all night. Jason could tell, just by the scowls set on all three kids’ faces, that they were all grumpy from the uncomfortable night. 

It was going to be a _great_ day, Jason knew it.

They took a quick potty break, and then Jason distributed some food for them to eat as they started their hike west. The faster they could get moving, the better. They needed to get to Kabul as fast as humanly possible. 

Get to Kabul. Get on a plane. Make it to America. Then this could all be over.

Athanasia seemed to be doing better, after their initial stretching that morning. She wasn’t walking quite as stiffly, and wasn’t in any _visible_ pain. Every time Jason tried to ask her about it, though, she completely ignored him. 

So he just rolled his eyes and kept walking, whenever that happened. They ended up moving a little closer to the river as the morning went on, as they’d finally moved beyond the area where there was a village every several miles. Jason was hoping that by doing so, they’d trail far enough away from where their searchers would double back. If they doubled back. Because _why_ would the kids walk right along side the river, out in the open, where there was no cover? They weren’t along the river yesterday, after all, as far as the assassins knew. He at least hoped they’d use that logic.

They stopped for lunch, sometime around noon. 

As Jason was passing out an assortment of jerky and granola bars, Damian felt the fucking _need_ to say, “Try not to leave any evidence behind this time,” as he started opening his bar.

“I’m fucking _sorry,_ okay?” he snapped, “It was a fucking stupid horrible awful mistake, but those morons were already after us _before_ they came across our campsite. So maybe drop the attitude, you stupid brat.”

“Yes, and now they know we are out here, somewhere,” Damian drawled. 

No one said anything after that, and they ate their lunch in uncomfortable silence. 

Jason moved his gun to his waistband and made sure his clips were accessible before they started moving again.

There was no trace of their searchers, though, and as the afternoon stretched on, they all started to relax some. Well, at least _Jason_ did. 

Athanasia started walking slower and slower, but as she did the day before, she refused any of Jason’s offers of carrying her. “Don’t touch me,” she’d demanded, in her soft-spoken voice that somehow commanded more attention from all of them than Damian’s high-pitched shrill did, whenever he got angry and started demanding things. 

“Fine,” Jason said, throwing his arms up as he stepped away from her, “But, Attie, you gotta tell me when it gets to be too much. It’s okay to need to be carried the last few hours of the day. As you build your stamina, you’ll be able to hike longer. The only reason the other two can hike all day is because they’ve been training for years to do so.” 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, but thankfully didn’t comment further. Mara, to Jason’s surprise, nodded slightly at his words. 

Athanasia didn’t seem to care, though, because she crossed her arms and huffed at Jason. “I can do it _now.”_

“Okay.” 

Even with her continued refusal to be carried, Jason could tell by about an hour to sunset that she’d reached the limit of her abilities for the day. They’d been walking rather slow for a couple hours at that point, and finally she’d started absolutely dragging her feet. 

“No,” she whined, when Jason swooped over and scooped her up, ready to carry her for an hour or so, just like the day before. But as soon as he did, she started kicking at him and thrashing about, forcing Jason to drop her. 

“Athanasia,” he sighed, watching sympathetically as she landed on her feet and tried to stretch her clearly aching muscles, “just let me carry you.”

“No,” she said, a touch more forcefully, “I can do it. Stop babying me.”

“I’m not babying you,” he exasperated, pausing in his trek to throw his arms out dramatically, “Oh my god. If _Damian_ needs me to carry him, I’ll carry him too. But you’re the one in pain right now.”

“I would never need to be _carried_ like a child,” Damian scoffed. 

Jason wanted to smack himself in the head. 

Or smack Damian.

That would be fun. 

“Neither do _I,”_ Athanasia insisted, crossing her arms petulantly. They’d all stopped walking at that point, and were just standing there, in a circle. Arguing. 

Jason rolled his eyes. “If you broke your ankle, you’d need to be carried.”

“No I wouldn’t,” Damian replied, smugly, like that was the actual answer a literal eight-year-old _should_ give.

There was no way Damian _wouldn’t_ whine forever if he broke his fucking ankle. Kids were shits like that. 

“Fine, if you broke _both_ ankles, then I’d carry you.”

“Tt. I assure you, I will not require your assistance regardless of how many ankles you break.”

“I wouldn’t break your ankles,” Jason said, rolling his head to the sky. Why were these brats so ridiculous, “and you can’t walk on broken ankles, Damian. I’d be too painful and _damage them_ further.”

“Pain is merely the vehicle for strength,” Damian said, as if that statement made fucking sense. 

When Mara nodded, however, Jason scowled and said, “Who the fuck told you that nonsense?”

“Grandfather,” Mara said simply, looking over at Athanasia, who’d sat down on the ground while they were arguing. From the looks of it, she was about to fall asleep. 

“Well Ra’s was an idiot, kay?”

“Do not speak of my Grandfather,” Damian started, just to trail off and look over at Mara, who was frowning back at him. 

And Jason didn’t want to touch that with a ten foot stick. 

Get these kids to Bruce.

Let him handle the whole hero-worship for a crazy immortal ninja demon who wanted them all dead. Then brought back again over and over, so they could be tortured. For all of eternity.

Jason was like, ninety-nine percent certain that’s what Ra’s wanted. 

“Well that’s not what Batman believes,” Jason mumbled, as he dropped the food bag onto the ground and knelt down next to it. If they were going to stand around, they were going to eat dinner. Jason loathed wasting time. 

Damian seemed to perk up. He stood a little straighter and looked Jason right in the eye, a touch of child-like curiosity present in his eyes. It was a little reassuring to see, actually. 

“Father?” he asked eagerly.

“No, I was talking about a _different_ Batman.”

“Your father is named ‘Batman?’” Mara asked, dropping her bag down next to Athanasia and collapsing down with her to eat her stick of jerky and granola bar. Jason could hear the touch of criticism in her voice.

It _was_ a stupid name.

Jason liked this kid. 

“That is his codename,” Damian said, stomping as he turned to face Mara, “Do _not_ disrespect my Father.”

Mara made a taunting face at Damian, then took another bite of her jerky as she rolled her eyes. “Will I have to call him ‘Batman?’”

“No, in fact that’s kind of a secret, so you can’t call him that,” Jason said, then turned his attention back to Damian, “ _anyway,_ ‘ _Dad’_ says that pain is your body telling you it’s time to quit and let it rest. It’s a sign that it’s time to _rest,”_ he turned back to Athanasia and tried his best to make his words penetrate into her, “and _heal._ You can’t rest and heal if you’re working _through_ pain. Pain means stop. When you feel it, you _stop.”_

And sure, Bruce was a giant hypocrite when it came to this, but he had always been adamant about that rule when he was training Jason. Pain meant stop. If Jason felt pain, he was supposed to say something. Say something to make the pain stop. Rest and heal. 

It was… the exact opposite of his league training.

He kind of understood Damian’s statement, then. He’d just never thought that Talia would have allowed _Damian_ to be trained that way.

He was a fucking child, for crying out loud. 

Pain meant stop, and stopping meant an end to his pain. 

“You’re suggesting that I surrender if I feel pain,” Damian drawled, “it is no wonder Father sent you to Mother. _That_ method will only result in your death.”

“That,” Jason started, then floundered for a second, standing there, opening his mouth and closing it again. Unable to come up with some sort of response. 

Because.

Wow there was a lot there. 

“Look,” he eventually said, sitting down in front of the girls, not far off from where Damian was still stubbornly standing, “I’m just saying, if you’re in pain and all we’re doing is hiking, just stop, okay? Stop and let me carry you. _Any_ of you.”

None of the kids responded, so Jason sighed and collapsed backward into the dirt, splaying his arms out beside him. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just camp for the night.” And maybe take baths. He kind of wanted to scrub all the friggen dirt off him.

Why was there so much dirt?

Miraculously, the kids agreed with him when he voiced that desire aloud, and the four of them took turns washing up in the river while the others kept watch. 

It was a little awkward, trying to wash up without getting his clothes completely soaked. Especially since they didn’t have any towels.

He should know better than to travel without a towel. It was the number one rule, after all. And yet, there he was. Shaking his head to dry his hair the best he could before squeegeeing himself dry. 

Kind of dry.

Talia hadn’t packed herself any clothes or bedding or anything, either, so there wasn’t an extra _anything_ to use.

Jason knew she hadn’t expected to make it out of the compound alive, but it almost seemed like she didn’t _plan_ on making it out alive.

That, or she was just going to share with Athanasia.

Considering how much of a cuddle-bug Attie was, that was possible. The two of them probably shared a bed, anyway. Unless Talia made Athanasia sleep in the closet or something, which he highly doubted.

Children as old as her didn’t curl up and climb on top of caregivers unless they had a history of doing so already.

At least, _Jason_ hadn’t. 

He’d certainly been small enough to curl up and cuddle with Bruce. And Bruce was probably willing enough, right? It was something _Dick_ did, after all. When he was little. But Jason had never been a cuddler. His dad was too much an asshole for Jason to want to. If his dad were home, Jason steered clear of his parent’s room. And when his dad _wasn’t_ home, his mother picked up extra jobs and tended to work nights. 

So, it hadn’t been something he learned, and therefore never something he craved or would have done naturally in his sleep. Unlike Attie.

It was strange, now, to let a kid cling to him like that. Not a bad strange. A little reassuring, actually, to be able to feel that she was still there and alive without having to check. 

He hadn’t had a single nightmare yet, too. Which was weird, because a night _without_ one was so rare. But that could be from all the stress, too. There was a weird point where he got _so_ stressed his nightmares stopped. 

At least _something_ was going his way, for once. 

After they’d all washed up and managed to air-dry the best they could, without remaining vulnerable for longer than necessary, they found a decent spot to set up camp. It was pretty out in the open, but there wasn’t much around, anyway. It was, at least, on the side of a hill, so they wouldn’t be visible from _all_ angles. That was pretty much the best they could ask for. 

To Jason’s surprise, however, Attie took note of where Jason was laying out his bed and set hers up on the exact opposite side of the camp. Both Mara and Damian were between them. Considering the little glare she shot him before curling up with her kitty and turning her back to them all, Jason figured asking what the heck that was all about was a terrible idea. 

After arguing with her all day about being carried, he did not have the energy to now start a fight over where she was sleeping. 

Because, really, he was fine _without_ her clinging to him, too. 

“I’ll keep first watch,” Mara said slowly, after looking back and forth between Athanasia and Jason a couple times. 

“Fine, whatever,” Jason said, as he lay down and pulled his blanket up over his arms, trying his best to convince his body it was comfortable. His feet were aching to be let out of his boots, but after the scare they’d had the night before, he wasn’t about to take his shoes off. He’d taken them off long enough to bathe, and that was it. 

But they had just one more day of hiking left before they’d reach civilization. And _maybe_ they could find an inn to stay in. 

Two more nights out under the stars. 

He could handle it. His feet could deal. 

Probably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple more chapters and we're out of the desert!!!! Woohoo. Still gotta make it to the US, though. 😆 Poor Jason. 
> 
> I think Mara is my favorite child out of the three. If you haven't read her short appearance in Teen Titans (2016) #1-5, I don't recommend it. It's highly depressing. I hadn't heard of her until I got this prompt, and went and read it and was destroyed for like two days because of it. It's okay, Jason is gonna love her. ❤️❤️❤️ Do y'all have a favorite kid so far? 😆
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! ❤️ you guys.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Despite his discomfort, he must have eventually drifted off, because next thing Jason knew, Mara was waking him to take his turn keeping watch.

Which was nice.

It meant he’d slept fairly solidly for at least a few hours. He kind of wished he could sleep more, but it was more important the kids got sleep, anyway. None of them seemed to catch on that he took about half the night as his watch period, and let them sleep longer.

It was because he didn’t want to deal with grumpy, sleep deprived children, of course. _Obviously._

Plus, kids just needed more sleep than adults.

And since Mara had chosen _him_ to take the middle shift, despite Damian’s stupid trust issues, that meant _all_ the kids would get a solid chunk of sleep.

Good.

Maybe Damian would be less of an asshole with more sleep.

Jason passed time by drawing in the dirt next to him. At first, he played anagrams, taking the name of random objects around him, or children, and seeing how many words he could make out of them. Once that grew boring, he started simply sketching out his surroundings. Really crappily.

Honestly, it looked like a child’s finger painting.

But it was something to do. And Jason was _bored._

He looked around them, of course. Constantly. But there was only so much entertainment he could glean from staring at the same moonlit hills for hours on end.

His boredom ended when sometime around 1am, if Jason were to guess, Athanasia started crying.

It was startling, actually. Because one second the air around him was silent, save the gentle breathing of Mara and Damian, and everything absolutely still. And the next, well… it was still silent. But Athanasia started shaking.

Jason would have expected sound, based on how hard she appeared to be sobbing, but as always, she was eerily silent.

It was creepy, actually.

But Jason ignored that and got up on his hands and knees in order to crawl over to her.

Damian stirred at the movement, but quickly fell back asleep when he cracked an eye open to see it was only Jason.

After brushing the dirt off his hands, away from Athanasia, Jason gently set his hand on her head and whispered, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Instead of respond, Athanasia pulled her head away, then buried herself under her blanket, so Jason couldn’t reach her at all.

“Attie, why don’t you come out and talk to me.”

“Go away,” she whispered back, curling up into a ball under her blanket. Jason could just imagine her little kitty squished up right in the middle of her, while she cried into its fur.

“Not until you tell me why you’re crying.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she said, her little voice somehow managing to sound _more_ pitiful than Jason thought possible.

Fuck he had to stop thinking this kid was cute.

Placing a hand on her leg, Jason pat at her and said, “Why not? I’m fun to talk to.”

“No you aren’t, I hate you.”

“Hmm.” Jason crawled a little closer and sat down, resting his head on his knees. The two other kids still looked asleep, at least. “That’s not a nice thing to say.”

“I don’t care.”

Sighing, Jason looked around them. He _was_ still on watch.

Also he had no idea what to do, now. So far all he’d had to do was hold her and everything was okay.

Of course it couldn’t just be that easy all the time.

“If you come out, I’ll give you all my raisins tomorrow.”

Athanasia mumbled something that was _probably_ ‘go away,’ but she was too damn quiet for Jason to fully make it out.

Freaking brat.

It was way too early for this shit.

“At,” he exasperated, flicking a rock sitting next to him on the ground. He actually had no idea what to do now. If bribery didn’t work, really there was nothing left in his repertoire

Maybe he just shouldn’t _care_ why she was crying, and let her just freaking do it.

But, no. Because if she cried all night, she wouldn’t sleep, and then she’d spend the entire day cranky and Jason couldn’t carry her _all day._

Not that she’d even fucking _let him._

“I said go away,” she said, forcefully, as she kicked at him.

Fucking stupid brat. Were all the kids going to attack him?

When she tried to kick him again, Jason caught her foot and snapped, “I can’t go away, so knock it off and just tell me what the problem is.”

“No,” she growled back, flipping the blanket off of her face, finally, so she could glower at Jason, “it’s not like you _care.”_

 _“_ What the _fuck,_ Athanasia,” letting go of her foot in such a way he practically tossed it back to her. Where the hell was any of this any fucking coming from.

It didn’t help that he could hear the other two kids stirring behind him. 

“Leave me _alone,”_ she said, her voice practically _shrieking_ at the last word. For her, at least. The volume was almost a normal level, though.

Jason would have taken a moment to appreciate it, had she not kicked him again, this time right in the side.

Right where one of those swords had nicked him a few days before.

It fucking _hurt._

“Fine then, just cry” he said, pushing himself back to his feet, so he could return to his own bedding. He wasn’t being paid enough to deal with this shit.

Especially since, he wasn’t being _paid._

Maybe he should extort Bruce upon their arrival. Demand some money to help him establish himself in Cincinnati.

“I _don’t_ care,” he huffed.

He didn’t even get fully to his feet before he started regretting his entire _life._ Second life.

Because Athanasia’s face absolutely crumpled, and _shit._

He was a major asshole.

“At-“ he tried, reaching a hand out to her. He had to apologize. Take it back. _Something._

God. He didn’t- He shouldn’t have fucking said _that._

But Athanasia jerked away from his hand, then scrambled to her feet, throwing her blanket down as she did so.

Before Jason could say anything further, before he could even figure out _what_ to say, she started crying again and, this time, said, “I want my mama.”

“Attie,” he tried again, holding his arm out to her. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do, but he figured it was probably hug her. Or something similar.

Athanasia, however, didn’t seem to want his comfort, because she stepped away again, then, after considering him for a moment, turned and started to run.

“Fuck,” Jason said under his breath, then turned to the other two kids who were unashamedly sitting up and watching, “stay here. I’ll get her.”

Jason only had to run for maybe a dozen steps, because Attie seemed to realize there was no where to go.

What had she even been _doing?_

“Hey,” he said, as he reached out and grabbed her arm, making himself feel better that she couldn’t bolt again, “At, come on. You can’t run off like that.”

“You don’t _care,”_ she repeated, trying, and failing, to free herself from Jason’s grasp.

Shit. Fuck. He was the _worst._

“I was lying. Of course I care, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt, and if you run away, you’re going to get hurt.”

“I wasn’t running away,” she protested, “Besides, I can take care of myself.”

Then the _fuck_ was she doing?

“Listen, I’m sure you can,” he soothed. Or, at least, tried to. He wasn’t sure how effective he actually was.

He needed to work on that, didn’t he? Being soothing to children.

It’d come in handy, for sure. For at least the next couple weeks.

Right now all he was was an asshole.

“But we need to stick together,” he continued, rubbing his free hand up and down her arm, “we can’t afford to split up. Not if we plan on making it home, together.”

“What home?” she cried, absolutely devolving back into a mess of tears and shaking.

“Come here,” he said, tugging her close and wrapping his arms around her. Athanasia hesitated, but did wrap her arms around Jason, too, and buried her face into his shirt.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m kind of a major asshole and I have no idea how to talk to kids.”

When all Athanasia did was let out a little sob, in the middle of her otherwise silent tears, Jason wanted to celebrate. Throw a party, or something. Give her a card congratulating her on actually _expressing_ herself. _Aloud._ So people could _hear_ it.

“What’s wrong,” he asked, running his hand up and down her back, trying his best to be _better_ at this.

He hoped it was working and wasn’t just coming off as creepy. He was starkly reminded that he’d only known this little girl for three days.

“I want my mother,” she said again, snuggling against him a little more. She must not find it weird, then.

But Jason could feel for her. He had been a little surprised none of them seemed to talk about the fact Talia had died _right in front of them_ again since the first morning, but even he was running in survival mode.

Even now, he didn’t want to let himself _think_ about her being gone. Not really.

“I know,” he said, still hugging her tightly. Letting her cry about it.

Sure, she hadn’t been his mom or anything, but she’d been kind to him. She’d been there for him at the lowest point in his life. Picked him up and healed him.

Even though that meant throwing him in the pit….

That had been necessary.

He needed to quit being upset about it. Talia had told him herself. It was _necessary._

And then, she’d been there for him ever since. She’d sat with him while he cried. Hugged him, even, when he was homesick. Helped him let go of a home that didn’t want him and stop _feeling homesick_ in the first place.

Yeah. Jason missed her.

And he could imagine how much Athanasia missed her, too.

“I miss her, too,” he said, as he scooped her up into his arms and stood.

She didn’t object to being carried back to where Jason could see Damian and Mara, both sitting across from each other at their campsite. Jason hoped they were getting along and not exchanging barbs.

Or threatening to kill one another.

“I don’t like it out here,” Athanasia whispered.

“Neither do I.”

Attie sat up some and wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck, watching now where they were walking. “I miss my bed.”

“Me too,” he said, trying to make his voice sound happier as he did, “I miss pillows most of all. I’m going to put like fifty pillows on my bed at home.”

“I’d like fifty pillows.”

“Attie, you can have a hundred pillows if you want.” Bruce would certainly buy them for her.

If Bruce was anything with her like he was with Jason.

In the beginning.

But Athanasia was his actual daughter. And Jason had no doubt Bruce was going to fall for her almost instantly.

Mara and Damian, on the other hand?

Jason was a little nervous about how Bruce would take them.

“Mama used to call me Attie,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Yeah? Can I call you that, too?”

When Attie just nodded against him, he said, “You can call me ‘Jay.’ That’s my nickname.”

“Did your mama call you that?”

“Yeah.” Sometimes. Not really. It was more of a Bruce thing…

He never understood why Bruce just randomly started calling him Jay and basically never called him anything else, but he also never complained about it. He _liked_ the name, after all.

“Okay, Jay,” she said, and he could hear a hint of a smile in her voice.

He reached up and ran a hand through her hair, hugging her a little more. _This_ was the Attie he knew. A sweet, cute little girl…

Bruce was going to love her _instantly._ It was basically impossible for him not to.

At the campsite, Damian and Mara were, thankfully, not murdering each other. Jason couldn’t tell if they’d actually been talking, but they were quiet when Jason got there.

“Damian, your turn to keep watch,” Jason said, as he sat Athanasia down on her feet.

“That’s it?” he spat, “She runs off and jeopardizes all of us, and you just _hug her_ and call it done?”

“What would you have me do?” Jason asked, a little annoyed now. The fuck was he _supposed_ to do? Comfort was what she needed, so Jason gave it to her.

“If _I_ had done that, if _Mara,”_ he said, pointing at his cousin angrily, “had done that, we would have- we would have been-”

“This is _not_ the League,” Jason snapped, “In case you haven’t noticed, we _defected._ I’m not about to go treating you brats the way _they_ treated you.” If _Damian_ had run off, Jason would have hugged him, _too._

“They trained us to be strong,” Damian shouted back, “She needs to be trained, too. She will get us _killed,_ otherwise.”

“No she won’t, we’re almost done with this hike anyway. As soon as we get out of these fucking mountains we’ll be able to blend in with society and hide in plain sight.”

“Grandfather will find us easily. He has operatives all over this country. All over the _world.”_

Which was why they _had_ to go to Bruce.

But Jason _couldn’t_ go back there. He _couldn’t._

He could easily dump the kids off. No problem. Sayonara, have a nice life, good bye brats.

That would be easy.

That would probably be the best option for them.

But _Jason_ would not be able to stomach being back there.

Would Bruce even let him stay? Keep him around, let him be around _Drake?_

If Bruce didn’t want him around back when there was no other kid in the house, why in the hell would he want Jason around his new little Robin and these three kids?

And now that he’d _actually_ murdered people, there was no way in hell Bruce was ever going to forgive him.

Bruce would throw Jason in jail, Jason would escape without issue, and Ra’s would find him and chop off his head for his treason.

Or worse, he’d chop his head mostly off, then shove him into the pit so he didn’t die.

Over and over.

For the rest of eternity.

Jason would lose his sanity one drop at a time And there would be absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Jason could escape from Ra’s once, but doing it twice was highly unlikely to happen.

He couldn’t….

But what choice did he have?

Where on earth could he hide from Ra’s, and do it successfully?

“Jason?” Mara asked, and it startled Jason just a little. Although he wasn’t sure _why_ it was so startling.

Then again…

So far only Athanasia had actually addressed him by name.

He’d kind of assumed the two brats hadn’t fully accepted him as not-a-servant. Even if they were following him and listening to what he told them to do. And he highly doubted they ever addressed servants by name.

Or even knew their names…

They were probably just listening to him out of their own self-interest. They wanted to get to Bruce so _he_ could protect them, and since neither of them knew where Bruce was, they _had_ to follow Jason.

“What?” he asked, looking over at Mara.

What was she to him? Was she his cousin? Not really, right? Cause even if he bought into the whole Bruce-was-his-dad thing and that meant Damian and Attie were his siblings, Bruce and Talia were not married. So he wouldn’t be at all related to Talia’s sibling’s kid.

“Where are you taking us?”

“I don’t know,” he said, waving a hand, “America.”

“You don’t know,” Damian mocked, clearly exasperated with Jason as he played with a knife.

That wasn’t mildly threatening or anything.

“Yet you claim you can keep us safe,” Damian continued, “You don’t even have a _plan.”_

“I _do_ have a plan,” Jason snapped back. Because he fucking _did._ He just wasn’t sure how well it would work out for _him._

 _“_ Then why won’t you _share it,”_ Damian snarled, stabbing his knife down into the ground next to him, “You cannot keep us in the dark like this. It is unfair. What if something happens to you? What _then?_ We must know the plan, too.”

What _if_ something happened to him?

Fuck.

But if he _did_ tell them how to get to Bruce, then they’d likely _ditch_ him, and then they, for sure, would be dead.

It was only a _maybe,_ if something happened to Jason.

“He doesn’t have a plan,” Mara scoffed, as she shared a smug look with Damian.

Fucking _brats._ Bruce might not take to _them._ He _hated_ attitude.

‘ _I’m not your father, Jason. I don’t need you teenage rebellion.’_

Yeah, well. Fuck him.

“Why won’t you tell us,” Damian demanded, stabbing the ground with his knife again.

Jason kind of wanted to take his fucking knife and stab _him._ “Because I’m not sure if it will work for all of us,” he nearly shouted back.

“What do you mean?” Mara said, slowly, much more calmly than he or Damian, “Who would it not work for?”

“Me, okay?” he snapped “So it doesn’t fucking matter to _you._ You’ll be _fine.”_

 _“_ Why would we be okay, but not you?” she asked, apparently not even bothered by Jason’s tone.

“Because,” he shouted, “I can’t think of a single option that doesn’t land me back in Ra’s hands, in the end.”

God. He _couldn’t_ go through the pit again.

“Then why would Mother trust _you_ to bring us to safety,” Damian screamed back, “If you cannot come up with a viable plan.”

Jason whirled to face Damian. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say, but he stopped when he saw Mara. He wasn’t even anywhere near her and Damian. Probably a good ten feet away, but Mara scooted back, a little further away from him, and he wanted to scream.

Instead, he walked over to his own stuff and kicked his bag, not even caring when his foot protested him kicking a bag full of metal. _Again._

He flung himself down on his sleeping mat, and tried to chill the fuck out by practicing his breathing. Just like Talia always forced him to do.

This was all Talia’s fault.

No. It wasn’t.

This was all _Ra’s_ fault, and Jason was going to kill that motherfucker one day. That was his new life goal.

Kill Ra’s al Ghul.

Slowly and painfully.

“Answer me,” Damian demanded, but Jason ignored him.

Jason took a minute, to focus on his breathing. If he’d startled Mara before, he didn’t even want to _look_ at Athanasia. Instead, he kept his eyes closed, as he counted his breaths.

“You said,” Athanasia said, from where she was sitting, across the campsite, probably hugging onto her kitty, “You said we can’t split up.”

“We can’t.”

“Then,” she said, softly, a little wobbly, “why would _you_ end up back with Grandfather and we would not?”

“Because,” he exhaled, opening his eyes and rolling his head, “Bruce isn’t going to take me back.”

There just… wasn’t any possible way he _would._ At this point, he had no obligations to Jason at all. As far as the world knew, Jason was dead. So he wouldn’t even have to honor the adoption papers, anymore.

At least Bruce valued his own public image…. enough, at least. For Damian and Athanasia. Bruce wouldn’t want to seem like a dead-beat dad if he wanted the state to keep approving his adoptions of little Robins, after all.

“Who is Bruce?” Mara asked, while Damian just blinked at him. Did Damian even know that was his dad’s name? Did _Athanasia?_

“Uh, ‘Dad,’” he mumbled, “He’s Batman.”

“Why would Father not take you back?” Damian said, scowling as he did, “I thought you were his son.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, sighing deeply as he did, “he’s not very forgiving to murderers.”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, “You are not a murderer, you are an executioner. It is different.”

Yep. Absolutely true. Some people just didn’t deserve to live. Like Ra’s al Ghul.

But did Bruce ever see it that way?

“He won’t care,” Jason droned, as he laid back on his mat, stretching his arms out as he stared up at the sky.

“Why did he send you to the League of _Assassins_ if he didn’t like assassinations,” Mara scoffed, and Jason was so over this conversation.

“He didn’t send me. He kind of kicked me out. And then Talia collected me.”

With, a couple steps in between, of course.

But fucking eight-year-olds didn’t need to know any of the dirty details. Bruce could fill them in on _all_ of that. Explain how much of a fucking failure Jason was, or whatever.

“But you are his son and you are quite capable combatively,” Damian said, “Mother always said Father respected warriors. If anything, it’s Athanasia Father will not accept.”

Athanasia frowned hard, and Jason watched as she stood and started dragging her sleeping mat over to where Jason was laying.

“No, I think he’ll have the easiest time with her,” he mumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. Because Attie had never done anything wrong in her life. Bruce was going to _love_ her.

Love doting on her, he was fairly confident.

But then again, maybe he wouldn’t.

Maybe he’d see her as dead weight, just like Damian…

Bruce had only taken him and Dick in to be sidekicks after all… Sure he’d played the role of dad there for a few years, too, but Robin was always what it was about. Robin came first.

Sure, Attie was cute and precious and all that, but _would_ Bruce like having a child around too young and untrained to be helpful in the field?

And would he take in _three_ kids all at once?

Talia seemed to think so. She thought he’d harbor them all.

Perhaps Talia knew him better, then. She had… created children with him, after all.

“Does he not already have a daughter?” Damian asked thoughtfully.

Jason lifted his arm up out of Athanasia’s way, when she settled her mat down next to him and fixed her blanket. “Uh, no. He’s just got three of us boys.”

“So then why would Father have a difficult time accepting _me,_ if he already has three sons? Clearly he is not against having more than one son.”

“The, uh, murder thing, kiddo.”

Although, he’d never had two of them at once. He adopted Jason _after_ Dick left. Then took Tim in right after Jason died.

Maybe he _did_ have an issue with more than one kid at a time.

“So we will have to convince Batman to harbor us,” Mara said flatly, “How can we trust him at all, then?”

“He’s Baba,” Athanasia whispered, now sitting down, right next to Jason, her kitty clutched tightly in her arms again, “Mama said Baba will love us.”

“Very well then,” Damian said, as if that settled it, “Mother would not lie about this.”

“But she also said Damian would love me and he doesn’t,” Athanasia said so quietly, Jason’s ears were straining to hear her at all. He wasn’t sure, at first, if the other kids had heard her.

But based on how deathly quiet both Mara and Damian got, and how tense the air became, Jason figured they both heard just fine.

Good.

Stupid brats needed to hear how horrible they were.

At least Damian hadn’t shot back with something scathing like ‘who could possibly love a useless child like you’ or whatever.

When no one said anything for several long minutes, Jason wrapped and arm around Attie and pulled her into a laying position, tucking her up against him as he flipped his blanket over both of them. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear him, “I’m gonna find a way to keep you brats safe, okay?”

“Sure,” Damian drawled, from where he sat straighter, to keep watch.

“I will,” he forced, combing his fingers through Attie’s hair when she finished settling down against him, “I promise.”

He just wasn’t quite sure how, yet.

They were just kids, after all. They deserved safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kasy, as always. ❤️❤️ She spent well over an hour tonight going over my shit first (4th? actually?) draft, and its all the better for it. ❤️ 
> 
> I'm like 87% positive we only have one more chapter in the desert, cause the kiddos reach an inn the next chapter after that. I am so excited. Part two is still a ways off, but this hike is just about over. Woohoo. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!! ❤️❤️ you guys.


	13. Chapter Twelve

The next day of hiking seemed to drag on forever. There wasn’t any particular reason for that, Jason thought. It just _did._

He had grown to hate the trail mix in the bag. And the lamb jerky. And the meal bars. 

Everything they had to eat was disgusting and Jason was _sick_ of it all. 

He could tell the kids were growing tired of it, as well. 

At least none of them had voiced their complaints… It’s not like he could do anything about it.

But it was relieving to know that _tomorrow_ they’d reach a town with a store. And an inn. _And_ a restaurant. 

If it had that many businesses, Jason was sure it saw enough travelers that they could blend in fairly easily. They’d just claim to be tourists. Hiking around for fun. Meeting back up with parents, they could say, if someone called him out for being too young to be responsible for the brats. 

The only downside was they’d finally exited the Wakhan Corridor, which meant they no longer had the river to help them along. They actually had to follow GPS, now. 

Or, at least, that’s what Jason let Damian believe. He knew they needed to head almost precisely southwest, so it wasn’t very difficult to do without the aid. But it kept Damian busy. So whatever.

The brats were fairly quiet over all, which was nice. But Jason supposed he gave them a lot to think about the night before. 

He still wasn’t sure what the answer to their problem was. 

He could always just take them to some random ass city and try to blend in there. Hide the kids from Ra’s. 

Jason almost laughed.

There was no way in fuck he was doing that.

Four days with these brats and he’d already come close to murdering each of them seventeen times. Quite the exaggeration, of course, but the sentiment was there. 

If he had to deal with them daily. For, like, ever. Ten years? Holy fuck. Athanasia wouldn’t be eighteen for _eleven_ years. 

Jason was only sixteen himself. He couldn’t imagine committing to watching these little punks for _eleven_ more years. 

He’d probably definitely kill them if he did. 

Surely there was a way to make the whole Bruce thing work…

Athanasia was doing better that day, too, which was great. She was already getting stronger, and Jason was so proud of her..

She still dragged behind the other kids, but she stayed ahead of Jason. Finally allowing him to take up the rear. 

But sometime after lunch, still a couple hours from making camp, Athanasia slowed down and started walking alongside Jason.

“Everything okay?” he asked, earning curious glances from Damian and Mara, before they both continued forward. Damian still holding the GPS, just to be sure they were hiking in the right direction.

“Are you going to stay with us after we get to America?” she asked, looking up at him with the most pitiful expression ever. 

Jason wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Because if he dropped them off at Bruce’s, then hell no he wasn’t going to. And he didn’t really want to not drop them off at Bruce’s, because he couldn’t think of any other decent solution to this conundrum. 

But how the fuck could he just say ‘no’ to that little face? 

Either Athanasia had natural puppy-dog eyes, or she was a criminal mastermind who needed to be stopped. 

“Why would you be worried about that?” Jason said, instead of committing to an answer, “I told you, I’m going to keep you safe, okay? I won’t abandon you.” 

And he wouldn’t. 

He’d just… leave them. With Bruce. If they were safe, it wasn’t abandoning them. 

“It’s just,” she said with a little sniffle, toying with the ear on her cat as they continued walking, “you said you’re only here because Mother asked you to be.”

“Well yeah, but-“ he started, but stopped when Athanasia started crying.

Like.

Right there. 

In front of them all. 

While hiking.

It still killed him how she cried. If he weren’t looking right at her, he’d have no clue. He bet neither Mara nor Damian knew she was crying. 

“Attie,” he said in distress, stopping abruptly and squatting in front of her, forcing her to stop walking by grabbing onto her arms, “Hey, listen. Shh.” 

At his voice, perhaps the tone, the other two kids stopped walking too. Jason could hear it in the crunch of gravel. How one of them kicked the rocks, slightly, turning around. 

“You’re just going to leave us, aren’t you?” she said, covering one of her eyes with her free hand, “Mama asked you to take us to Father, right? And then you’re going to leave.” 

Fuckin’ _hell._

“Attie…” 

“You said you’re only here cause Mother asked you to be.”

“Athanasia, I promise you, I’d be right here even if she didn’t,” Jason said, and that was absolutely true.

The _second_ he found out Talia had children-that there were _children_ in the League, he’d been ready to help.

Sure, he didn’t want to be, like, responsible for said children for the next eleven years or whatever, but he had committed himself to keeping them safe the very second he knew they existed. 

And that was even before finding out they shared a connection. 

Athanasia scrubbed her face against Kitty before peering up at him and asking, “You would?”

“Yeah, of course,” he whispered, patting her on the arm holding Kitty, “Remember what I told you?’

When she shook her head, Jason prompted, “What am I? I’m your what?”

“Big brother,” she whispered, still holding Kitty up to her face.

“Yeah, and what do big brothers do?”

Smiling into Kitty, just enough that her eyes crinkled, Athanasia said, “Protect their little sisters.” 

“Bingo, kiddo,” he said, running his hand up and down her arm, “I’m going to protect you, okay? We’re family. That’s what family does.” 

At least, Jason thought that’s what family did. He wasn’t very sure, now-a-days.

Jason had _thought_ family meant loyalty, when he was with Bruce. That’s what Bruce had taught him, but apparently even that had been a lie. 

Sheila was supposed to be his family, and look what _she_ did. Sold him out to the Joker and just _watched._

And Willis… 

Willis probably wouldn’t have done _that,_ but he was no where _near_ father of the year.

Regardless, _Jason_ wasn’t going to betray three little kids, kind-of-family or not. 

Athanasia leaned forward, then wrapped her free arm around Jason, making him return the hug and squeeze her back. 

“Okay?” he asked, earning a nod against his chest. 

Good. Okay. Maybe she’d quit crying, now.

_Fuck._

Jason let go of Attie a second later when Mara, still standing behind them, waiting on them with Damian, scoffed loudly. 

“Something wrong?” he said, forcing himself not to clench his teeth. They just _had_ to have attitudes, didn’t they?

Mara rolled her eyes when Jason turned around, then said, “You’re not even sure if Batman will harbor us and he’s your _family.”_

 _“_ Yeah,” he said testily, “but-“

“But _what!”_ Mara nearly shouted, “What are you even doing? What are _we_ doing?” 

“Mara-“ he tried, but she just kept yelling. 

“You ruined _everything!_ Grandfather will never take me back, and I didn’t want anything to do with _this._ I didn’t _want_ to defect!” 

“Mara, it’s going-“

“No,” she shouted right over him, “this didn’t have anything to do with me! It was all about _Athanasia_ and _Talia_ and I’m not one of them! I’m not one of _you._ Batman isn’t my father and he doesn’t even _want_ his own son, why would he want _me? Why am I here?”_

She was outright screaming, at that point, and Jason was, for the first time, glad they were in the middle of the fucking desert, so no one could hear them. 

“I was fine. Why did you ruin _everything_ for me? I would have been _fine_ had you left me behind!”

“Mara,” Jason shouted, finally earning himself a little flinch from the girl, the first acknowledgment that she was even _listening._ Jason didn’t have to feel bad about it, though, because she immediately glowered at him.

Damian, however, quietly retreated away from Mara, going somewhere behind Jason. 

“I don’t _know_ why Talia wanted you to come,” he said honestly, taking a few steps closer to her, his hands held out in a peaceable gesture, “I don’t _know_ any of that. I have no idea. I don’t know what she was thinking, but would you honestly rather be with Ra’s?”

 _“Yes,”_ she said, choking a little on the sob she was clearly trying to keep from happening, _“_ he’s my Grandfather!”

“He’s a psycho,” Jason said, inching his way closer to her. 

Mara took a step back and cried, “No he’s not! He’s-“

"Why do you believe in him so much,” Jason asked, as gently as he could, stopping in his place when Mara took another step backwards, “He didn’t believe in you.” 

“You’re _wrong,”_ she choked out, her face screwing up so much, Jason just wanted to pull her into a hug. 

He _almost_ did, but knelt down on the ground, still about four feet away from her where she wasn’t letting him get any closer. 

She started crying harder, and managed to shout, “He trained me,” through her tears, “I was to be his heir!”

Damian made his stupid little, “Tt,” sound, and before he could say a single syllable of what Jason was _sure_ was going to be a scathing remark about Mara being unworthy or something, Jason turned around snapped at him. 

“Damian, I swear to fuck, if you know what’s good for you, you will keep your trap shut.” 

Jason only mildly felt bad about the way Damian shrank back away from him. Stupid brat needed to be scared more often, probably. If he couldn’t be nice on his own, perhaps he needed to be scared into being nice. 

“Mara,” he said, after taking a breath to relax, a little, and turning back around to face her, “he was going to force you to face an untrained seven-year-old. He thought it was _necessary_ that you face her, like you had to prove yourself better than an untrained seven-year-old.”

“No,” she protested, “it would have been to teach Talia a lesson, it-“ 

“He would have made you kill her,” he said, trying for gentle, holding his hands out in a placating manner. He had no idea how to get her to stop crying. If she were Attie, he’d just hug her. Like he’d done not ten minutes ago. 

“I-yes,” Mara stammered, before she sniffed and wiped at her eyes, “Perhaps. Sometimes not. He never has Damian and me fight to the death.”

“If that were the case, why didn’t he have Damian face her?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“I- I don't know.”

“It’s because he decided he didn’t need _two_ granddaughters. He was going to keep only one of you, and your fight would determine which one.” 

“Get off me,” Damian whisper shouted, and Jason looked back just long enough to see Athanasia clutching Damian’s arm. 

Oi. He should focus on Mara, probably. 

God he couldn’t do this. 

At least she’d stopped crying. Mostly. 

“ _Fine,”_ she half-shouted at him, stomping her foot as she did. In doing so, she’d taken a couple steps forward. “But I have trained my _whole life_ so I can be his heir. So I can prove myself worthy of- of-“

“Of killing a child?”

“No! To prove I am not my _father._ A traitor! And you _ruined it,”_ she shouted, tears streaming back down her face. 

God. 

Jason rubbed at his face. Why couldn’t Talia have like, told him this shit or something. _Explained_ to the brats what was going on. 

Or, better yet, not fucking _died._

Next time Jason saw Slade, he was going to shoot him in the ass for this. 

“So you would have killed an innocent seven-year-old to prove that?”

“If that’s what it took,” she said so confidently, Jason wanted to just sigh. 

Instead, he asked as gently as he could, still kneeling down in front of her, now within reach of her, “What would that have done to you?”

Mara paused, then wiped at her face again before she asked, a little squeakily, “What do you mean?”

“You, as a person. What would that have done to you?”

“I-“ she started, but just stopped. She shook her head, like she still didn’t understand. 

“You are a person, you know.”

“Of course I know that,” she snapped.

“You have feelings.”

“Feelings are useless,” she said, almost robotically. Like it was something she parroted a lot, “They are a weakness to overcome. They-“

“Everyone has feelings,” he cut in, ready to squash whatever the fuck _that_ was. Did Damian believe this shit, too? Probably. “You have them. Damian has them. I have them. There's nothing wrong with that.”

When she just scowled at him, he added, “And having _morals_ is okay, too.”

“What are you even talking about,” she whined, “What does having _morals_ have to do with you _kidnapping_ me!”

“Talia wanted you here for a reason,” he said, refusing to rise to the bait. They both knew he hadn’t _kidnapped_ her. She’d come willingly. “I don’t know what your relationship to her was like, but she obviously decided you were worth saving, too, right along side her kids.”

“I didn’t need saving.”

Jason did sigh, then. “The fact you can’t even see the abuse of the League is only more evidence that you _did.”_

“It’s not abuse,” she screamed, “It’s- She just wanted me here because to her if _Damian_ couldn’t be heir, then no one could!“

This was going fucking no where.

“ _Mara_ ,” he snapped, “It’s done. We’ve left. There is no going back.”

“I _know,”_ she cried, “That’s _your fault._ I _hate_ you.” 

“Okay, fine,” he said, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes at that, “But I promise you, I’m not dragging you across Afghanistan to punish you or make sure you can’t be Ra’s heir, or whatever the fuck it is you think. It’s to _save_ you.” 

“Why would you even care. You don’t _know_ me.” 

Hadn’t they established Jason didn’t know _any_ of them? 

“Look,” he said, reaching out and taking Mara’s hands. When she tried to pull it away, Jason just tightened his grip until she relaxed, “I will protect you with my life, Mara, okay? Just like I will Athanasia and Damian, against _anyone_ wishing you guys harm.” 

“You don’t have to,” she whispered, the scowl she’d put on ruined by the way her jaw was shaking, “No one asked you to.”

“I know, but I am.” 

Jason ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands and said, “Look, just- Just give it a chance, okay? Everything will start looking better once we get to America. I promise.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” 

Mara pulled at her hands again, so Jason let them go. When he stood and turned around, he saw Athanasia looking at him with pleading eyes, no longer holding onto Damian. 

Hopefully Damian hadn’t hurt her to get her to let go… 

Damian just stared at him as he walked back over and held his arms out to Attie, who easily let him pick her up. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder. 

“What?” he asked, hating himself for the bite of annoyance he had at Damian staring at him so weirdly. 

Was Damian going to yell at him now, too? Fuck his life. 

“Why,” Damian said, then swallowed and tried again, “Why would you do that?”

“Do what?” he exasperated. When Attie shifted against him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then pat at her back. 

Mara had turned her back to them, and was wiping at her face with her tunic. Jason was going to give her a minute to finish pulling herself together, then they _had_ to get moving. 

“Die,” Damian said forcefully, like Jason should have just _know_ what the fuck he was talking about, “Why would you _die_ for me? For Mara? That makes no sense. _You_ make no sense.” 

“You guys are just kids,” he nearly exclaimed. And he was- _had been_ Robin. That was what Robin _did._

Protected the innocent. 

And even if Bruce could take the name from him, he couldn’t take _that._ His mission. 

“We are not,” Damian protested.

“Fine,” he acquiesced, holding the hand not supporting Attie’s weight up in surrender, “but I’m _your_ big brother, too. Okay?”

If he was claiming to be _Attie’s_ big brother, then he couldn’t pick and choose, now could he?

Fuck him. He maybe almost didn’t mind….

“Look,” he said, before he could think too hard about it, “we need to keep moving if we want to make it into town tomorrow.” 

Attie nodded against his neck, then squeezed a little harder before letting go completely, gracefully dropping straight to the ground. 

With only a second’s more of staring, Damian nodded once and pulled the GPS back out, then marched on ahead to lead the way. 

Mara didn’t budge, or even acknowledge any of them were moving, so Jason set a hand on her back as he started to walk past her, pushing her slightly as he did. She tensed at the contact, but then started walking, only briefly glancing up at him. 

She’d stopped crying, but looked like it was a struggle to keep it that way. 

“I promise,” he said, rubbing her back as they kept walking, “it’s going to be okay.” 

When she didn’t say anything in response, Jason put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her a little closer, kind of giving her a side hug. He was afraid of doing much more than that, though, because of the knives. She didn’t have one out or anything, but he knew she could grab one in the blink of an eye. 

Mara just stared up at him in response, almost like she were indifferent, so he squeezed her shoulder and let go. 

One more day. Just one more day and they’d make it to town. Sleep in a _bed._ Eat _real_ food. 

Hopefully they’d hold it together long enough. He really _did_ believe everything would start looking up once they got out of the desert. 

He needed to figure out a solution to this whole Bruce-thing, though. Because dumping them off and high tailing it to Ohio apparently wasn’t a solution. 

Not after all the promises he’d just made.

Besides…. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to just ditch them, anyway. That wasn’t what family _did._ And… and even if they weren’t _really_ family, that’s what he’d just sold the kids. So he couldn’t go back on that, now could he? That would be teaching them the entirely wrong lesson. 

There was plenty of time to think about that later, though. 

All that was important in the moment was making it to town. Everything else could be worried about later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~~~ Sorry I skipped updating The Best Things this week on accident. That happens sometimes, especially when I'm writing as much as I've been writing lately. 
> 
> This story is at the point where every chapter from here on out has to be written. Next weeks chapter is planned and all, but there's only 1200 words in the draft and it's mostly like lines of dialogue and then 'Jason thinks about this' kind of notes. So..... Weekly updates are still the goal, but that might not always be feasible. Especially once I get back to work. My region isn't on the list for reopening, though (capital region....) and my workplace is part of 'phase four' from what I heard in the teleconference today. Cause I work in tourism and all that....so..... Might be a while still until I'm back in the office full time. 
> 
> On the upside, part one is fully outlined and has about 6 more chapters left. Then we move into part two. :) I'm excited. I legit cried while writing a scene that belongs in part two. :D
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting! Hope you all are hanging in there! <3


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Jason reviewed the cover story with the kids the next morning. They’d _finally_ found the road to Kabul, and were soon going to be encountering actual people, so they needed to all be on the same page. 

He would have discussed it the night before, but after the day they’d all had, no one had been up for chatting. 

“We’re siblings,” he explained, the kids all walking just ahead of him, following the road now, “from a remote village in the corridor. Our father moved to Kabul last year, and he’s sent for us.” 

There _were_ Afghani passports in his bag, one for each of them, but for this cover story they wouldn’t need them. In fact, having them would detract from it, so he kept them in the hidden pocket. Poor children from a random village was what they were going for. 

“Like anyone would buy that,” Damian scoffed.

“Hey, I may not look anything like Mara, but she looks like _you,_ and _you_ look kind of like me.” Especially with all the sun Jason had gotten. Not for the first time, he was happy he tanned, rather than burned. His features were ambiguous enough people usually had a hard time discerning his ethnicity. Mix that with blue eyes, which Athanasia had, and the black hair they all had, and it wasn’t that hard to believe the four of them were related. 

Even Jason’s white streak in his hair matched Mara’s red one. They could just tell people she dyed her’s, if anyone asked. 

Not that he expected such intrusive questions. It was just good to have the story sorted, first. 

“Do you two really have the same birthday,” he asked, remembering seeing the same exact birthdate on Mara and Damian’s passports. October something. 26th? Regardless, the obvious story would be they were twins. _Way_ easier than trying to explain why they were so close in age, otherwise. 

“Don’t remind me,” Mara groaned. 

“Well congrats, you two are twins now.” 

Damian groaned, and Jason smiled. “Perfect. Just keep acting like you hate each other, and no one will question whether you’re siblings.”

“We do hate each other,” Damian said, and Jason just grinned. Not that either of them turned around to notice.

“Uh huh,” he said, grinning even wider when Damian made a frustrated growl, but let it drop. 

“I’ve always wanted a sister,” Athanasia said, bouncing a little as she walked, smiling over at all of them. 

Mara did not return the smile. Instead, she scowled at Attie and said, “It’s just a cover story, we aren’t _really_ sisters.” 

“Hate to break it to you, but ‘cover story’ is gonna be your life now, Mara.” She _couldn’t_ be Bruce’s ex-lover’s niece that just randomly showed up in America with fake papers. That would raise too many questions. _Far_ too many questions. Jason didn’t see a single path ahead of them where Mara didn’t end up being legally Damian’s twin sister.

Jason would be a liar if he said he didn’t find _some_ amusement from that thought. Mr. I-don’t-have-a-sister was going to have _two._

“This is so stupid,” Mara grumbled. 

“Yeah, but, that’s life,” Jason said, as they continued onward. 

Throughout the day, four different vehicles passed them. No one stopped to bother them, which was great. But, at the same time, Jason wouldn’t have turned down the opportunity to sit in the back of a pickup instead of _walking._ Forever. 

Regardless of their lack of ride, sometime around 7pm, by Jason’s estimates, the small village they had been aiming for came into view. Jason could _cry_ for how relieved he was. 

Damian and Mara both picked up their pace, obviously eager to reach the inn and have some place to actually _rest,_ while Athanasia actually slowed down until she was walking in line with Jason. 

“Are we going to see people?” she asked, reaching up and grabbing onto Jason’s hand as they walked. 

“Yeah,” he said, matching her soft tone in response, “Is that okay?”

Attie nodded, but squeezed his hand and asked, “Are they going to tell Grandfather where we are?”

“No. Not everyone is part of the League. It’s _highly_ unlikely these people are. If we don’t mention the League, they won’t even think of it, okay?” 

“Grandfather is likely hated by the locals,” Damian said matter-of-factly, from where he and Mara were still walking about six feet ahead of them, “many of his younger recruits are… acquired from nearby villages. You needn’t worry the innkeeper be one of his agents. It’s almost impossible.”

“Right,” Jason said, squeezing Athanasia’s hand back as he smiled, “So, if we just stick to the cover story, it’ll all be okay.” 

The inn was relatively easy to locate, once they arrived in the village. There were a few people walking around, socializing with each other, but for the most part no one paid them any real attention. 

It only took someone a minute to answer the door when Jason knocked. When she opened the door, who Jason assumed to be the innkeeper looking the four of them up and down, then looked to Jason expectantly.

“Hello,” he said in Arabic, trying his best not to use the League’s accent or dialect, “Do you have a room available?” 

But the woman just shook her head and said something in Dari, and Jason cursed himself for not focusing on the local languages. He’d spent the past year trying to perfect his Arabic and learn the different dialects of it. Or… at least the major dialects of it. He hadn’t even _started_ on Dari. 

There hadn’t been a plausible reason for him to need it. It’s not like they often ventured out into Afghanistan. 

“English?” he asked, trying to make it sound heavily accented. He’d told the kids not to speak English while they were in town, but if it were necessary… 

The woman shook her head again and frowned, but Damian huffed next to him and mumbled, in Arabic, “You’re useless,” before _he_ said something in Dari. 

Oh. 

Good. Maybe he should have asked the brats what languages they spoke. 

Jason guessed Damian was saying the right things, because the woman smiled down at him and they went back and forth a few times. 

Mara eventually said something, too, then turned to Jason and said, “She says it’s 1000 afghani, but if we want breakfast in the morning it’s 1100.” 

Fuck yeah he wanted breakfast. 

“There’s only one bed,” Damian whined, but Jason rolled his eyes at him and pulled the right amount of money from his bag and handed it to the woman. 

“At least it’s not dirt _outside,”_ he murmured at Damian. 

She led them through the house and showed them a decent sized room, that had one full size bed in it. There were plenty of floor cushions stacked in the corner, and the entire ground was covered in rugs. 

It was _heaven_

There was one small washroom, with actual running water. They took turns getting cleaned up, and changed into their fresh pairs of clothes. Once they reached the city, they’d need to actually _clean_ their clothes, but he wasn’t going to bother with that there. 

Maybe he’d just buy new clothes and throw out the league robes. 

Actually, they should probably do that, anyway. They had no more use for the robes. 

By the time they were all cleaned up, it was pushing 8pm, and Jason was beyond ready for bed. Breakfast was at 7, and he was looking forward to it. All he wanted to do was get to bed. Although… even though the bed looked exceptionally comfortable, Jason knew there was _no way_ he’d be able to sleep on it. 

Not with a door that had only a flimsy lock on it. Picking locks was pathetically easy, and there was no way he’d be comfortable with the door unguarded. Without anything available to barricade the door, Jason had already decided he would just use his body, and sleep up against it. 

“Okay,” he said, after he passed out one last snack for them all to eat. The two older kids were sitting up on the bed, while Attie was sitting with Jason down on the floor cushions. 

Talia was right, she’d had _plenty_ of food for the trek. Sure, they still had a couple days hike ahead of them, but they hadn’t even gone through half of the food in the bag, despite being beyond the halfway mark for their hike. 

“Okay?” Damian prodded, making Jason shake his head and refocus. 

“Yes, so, you brats gotta put your knives on the table here,” he said, pointing at the end table next to the bed. 

“What,” Damian demanded, his scowl mirroring Mara’s. 

“You want us to disarm?” she nearly shrieked, and Jason held a finger up to shut them up.

“Yes,” he said simply, “Have either of you _ever_ shared a bed with someone else?” 

“No,” Mara said, at the same time Damian said, “of course not.” 

“Right, so I don’t want one of you waking up and stabbing someone when you get kicked in the middle of the night. So knives on the table.” 

“What if we’re ambushed during the night?” Mara asked, looking a little distraught at the thought. 

Jason looked around the room, which was decent sized, but had no windows. 

“There is only one way into this room,” he said, standing and picking up a few floor cushions to bring to the closed door, “and if anyone wants in, they’ll have to get past me. I’ll sleep right here, okay?” 

He’d likely wake the second footsteps sounded outside their room, regardless, and if anyone tried to open the door against him, that would certainly tip them all off. 

It’d be fine. 

Athanasia stood up and pulled a knife from her waistband, and set it on the table next to one she pulled from her sock next. Jason was a little impressed she _had_ knives on her. He had no idea those were there. With her knives now on the table, she climbed up on the bed and claimed a pillow, hugging it tightly as she laid down.

“I’m not disarming,” Damian still insisted, crossing his arms as he actually _pouted_ at Jason. 

“Then you can sleep on the floor.” 

“How do you expect me to sleep unguarded?” he demanded, scowling as he clutched at what Jason assumed was one of his knives, hidden in his sleeve.

Jason took a second to answer, because how _did_ he expect that? Damian wasn’t _truly_ unguarded, of course. Jason was right there, and would defend them easily. 

But… they didn’t trust Jason. And he didn’t blame them. _Jason_ wouldn’t trust him, if he were in their position. Trust had to be earned, and it was difficult to achieve that trust in a few short days. Athanasia was a clear exception to that, but even then Jason wasn’t sure if it was true trust she held or just childlike naivety. 

“The knives will be right there, on the table,” he eventually said. Because even if the kids had no reason to trust him, _Jason_ didn’t trust them not to stab each other in their sleep, “I have no doubt you’re skilled enough to grab it if necessary.” 

Damian paused at that, and seemed to think about it before he finally nodded and said, “Yes. I am highly trained.” 

“I’d rather sleep on the floor,” Mara scoffed, watching with scorn as Damian pulled no fewer than _seven_ knives off his person and placed them on the end table. 

“Suit yourself,” was all Jason said, as he snatched one of the pillows from the bed and tossed them at his line of cushions. They were lucky the double bed was stocked with four pillows, so each of them got one. 

Mara made herself a little bed of floor cushions basically as far away from Jason she could get. She ended up squeezing in between the end table and the wall, on the opposite side of the room. Once she was settled, and both the other kids seemed tuckered in, sharing the bed, Jason cut the light out and bid them all a “Good night.” 

And somehow, it only took him an hour to fall asleep. 

\- - - 

Amazingly, incredibly, no one bothered them during the night. Jason woke up a few times as the Innkeeper’s family moved about, but each time he was quickly able to dismiss their movements as non-threatening. They were clearly trying to keep quiet, too, which was highly appreciated. 

Breakfast was at 7, and Jason made sure he and the kids were ready and packed before they attended. 

When they got to the dining room, the Inkeeper’s family was already there. Who Jason assumed to be her husband and two daughters were all sat on one side of the table, with four spots set out for Jason and the kids on the other side.

And Jason nearly cried at what he saw on the table. 

_Fried eggs._

Hot. Food. 

Finally. He was going to eat hot food. He didn’t even care that it was _only_ eggs, as far as the hot food went. 

There was also bread and some jams and stuff, which Jason appreciated. The League often served a similar thing for breakfast, but he was most excited about the fried eggs. 

After exchanging pleasantries, the Innkeeper served him and the kids some of each of the things on the table, along with a glorious cup of tea. 

“How do you say ‘this looks delicious, thank you,” Jason asked the kids, barely containing himself enough to wait until everyone had food to eat. 

To his surprise, it was the husband who answered Jason’s Arabic. “Tashakor means ‘thank you,’” he said, smiling when Jason turned his attention to him.

“Tashakor,” Jason repeated, then said, “We have been hiking for a while. I am so happy to be eating good cooking again.” 

“My wife mentioned you are on your way to Kabul,” he responded, motioning for all four of them, “to meet up with your father?”

“Yes. He found work there many years ago,” Jason said, as he _finally_ cut off a piece of the egg and dipped it in the yolk. The kids had already started eating, they and the two daughters all seeming too focused on their food to chat. 

“That is a four day hike,” the husband said, and Jason kind of wished he knew his name, but he wasn’t sure if he was, like, allowed to ask or whatever. No one had asked _him_ for _his_ name, either. 

Jason nodded, savoring the delicious egg, in lieu of saying anything else. He knew it was a long hike. He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to eat hot food. 

“But my neighbor makes a weekly trip on Tuesdays to trade and bring back supplies,” he continued, after scrutinizing Jason for a moment, “If you go see him after breakfast, he may give you a ride. The truck is often empty on the way there.” 

“A ride would be _amazing.”_ Like, better than hoped for. If they could just hop on a truck and be in Kabul in _four hours._ Well. Jason might actually cry about that. 

Maybe if he offered this neighbor money, he’d eagerly take them along. 

“Most weeks he leaves around 9, so you will need to hurry once we are done eating.” 

“Yes, yes,” he said, eagerly, eating his food a little faster. Not that he was rushing, because that would be rude, but he wasn’t savoring every single bite. 

Fried eggs were great, but the possibility of being in Kabul by lunch time? Or… probably a late lunch? Totally worth it. They could buy any kind of hot food in Kabul. 

And even better, they could buy friggen plane tickets and get _out of Afghanistan._

Jason was so ready to be out of the desert. He wanted tall buildings. Lots of tall buildings around him. Millions of people, speaking languages he understood. He wanted to go _home._

Maybe it didn’t have to be Gotham, though. There were lots of large cities in the U.S. Maybe as long as it was an _American_ city, it’d be close enough to home to be comfortable. Large enough to be safe. 

_Could_ they be safe without Bruce’s protection? 

That… that was a question he should worry about later. Until then, he should do the next best step. And right then, the next best step was catching a ride to Kabul. 

They were going to be in Kabul _that night._

Just that one thought was enough to keep Jason smiling all throughout breakfast. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello~~~~ Just had a rough week for writing last week. But it's fine, I think I'm past the mini block. :D Next chapter has to be completely written from scrap, but it's probably okay. Thanks for sticking with me even if I'm not super awesome at weekly updates. I'm SO STOKED to get these kids out of this endless hike finally!!! 
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting. Hope you have a wonderful week! <3


	15. Chapter Fourteen

They wasted no time after breakfast. The innkeeper’s husband, whose name was apparently ‘Sohrab,’ led them straight to the neighbor’s house. 

The neighbor seemed like a clean-cut man. Just based off the brief smile and nod Jason exchanged with him when they approached. A handful of sons were loading boxes of _something_ into the back of a pickup while the neighbor started talking with Sohrab. 

Jason had no idea what they were saying. Both Damian and Mara were listening intently, and neither one had made a face. Damian wore his distrust on full display, so Jason figured if he wasn’t too concerned about what they were saying, Jason probably shouldn’t be either. 

“Kahlil,” the man said, extending his hand out for Jason, who took it and nodded. 

“Jaah,” he said, introducing himself using the name on his Afghan passport. He hoped his U.S. Passport said “Jason,” on it, because he was a little attached to his name. He supposed it made sense to use names in the local language, though, while traveling. Would make it harder for Ra’s to find them on a flight manifest, too. 

“He will be honored to give you a ride,” Sohrab said, smiling once Jason let go of Kahlil’s hand, “he is glad to help children reunite with their father.” 

Jason looked down at Damian, who nodded once at him, confirming Sohrab was telling the truth. “Tashakor,” he told Kahlil, hoping he was remembering the pronunciation of ‘thank you’ properly. 

Overall, Jason wasn’t getting any weird vibes from any of the people around them. The sons finished loading up the back of the truck, which was now packed full of a mix of things like eggs, wool, and hand woven things. Out of everyone there, _Jason_ was probably the sketchiest person. He and the kids, since all of them were dressed in clothing from the League…

And yet, they were still willing to help. A little touching, if Jason let himself think about it very long. Maybe they hadn’t recognized their clothing. 

There was just enough room in the back for their bags. Jason kept his weapon bag with him and shoved it into the footwell up front, but didn’t protest the rest of their bags being out of reach for the duration of the ride. He knew each child was well armed, and there were plenty of towns around. If they never saw those bags again, he knew they’d be fine. 

The pickup had an old-school bench seat, and that was it. So the four of them had to squeeze in, with Damian sitting right next to Kahlil, Mara squished between him and Jason, and Athanasia sitting on Jason’s lap. 

It was uncomfortable. It was cramped. But it wasn’t walking for four days, so _none_ of them said a single word in protest. 

In fact, none of them said many words at all. Damian and Kahlil spoke back and forth a few times, but considering Damian’s tone had remained incredibly _cordial,_ Jason figured they weren’t doing more than exchanging small talk. 

Mara spent the entire trip with her arms crossed, staring straight ahead, so Jason left her alone. He was a little tempted to hug her, just to make her mad, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted was to have to hurt or kill Kahlil. And he’d have to do that, if he found out they were actually defecting from the League. Getting stabbed by an eight-year-old was a sure-fire way to expose that little detail of their lives. 

Instead, he kept his arms wrapped around Attie as he stared out the passenger window. Every once in a while, Attie perked up and pointed to something they were passing, whispering her observations to Jason, but otherwise the ride was extremely boring. The most exciting part was the herd of cows they passed, which was the _coolest thing,_ apparently. According to a certain seven-year-old. 

That is, until the city of Kabul came into view. Attie gripped Jason’s arms tightly as she looked ahead, taking in the sight of an _actual_ city. Jason could sigh from relief at the fact they were about to melt into a city with over _four million people._

“That’s a lot of people,” Attie whispered. 

All Jason did was squeeze her a little tighter and smile. He was looking forward to introducing her to a city more than twice the size of Kabul. 

After a little over three hours of driving, Kahlil diverged from the main road and through the streets of Kabul. Finally, after about fifteen different turns, they pulled into what appeared to be a marketplace, and Kahlil put the truck into park. 

“Tashakor,” Damian said, before he continued on too fast for Jason to even try to decipher individual words. 

While they were talking, Jason opened the truck’s door and set Attie down on her feet so he could get out. Mara quickly followed, before Jason could pull his bag from the footwell. 

Kahlil came around the truck and helped Jason pull their backpacks out, smiling the entire time. Once everyone had their bag, Jason shook Kahlil’s hand again and tried to hand him a few hundred Afghani as a thanks, but Kahlil refused to take it, shaking his head adamantly. Instead of argue about it, Jason slipped it into the truck when he closed the passenger door.

“Okay,” he said, once they’d waved to Kahlil and started walking away, with no real destination in mind yet, “How does lunch sound? I bet there’s some food somewhere around here.”

“Have you even been to Kabul before?” Damian asked, from where he and Mara were walking in front of Jason and Athanasia. 

“Uh, no,” he admitted, holding tightly to Attie’s hand, who was squeezing like her life depended on it every time a stranger passed them. He wasn’t quite sure what to do about her nerves. She probably just had to get over it. 

“Have you?”

“Tt. Of _course._ There are excellent restaurants this way,” Damian said, turning on his heel and leading them west, rather than the north Jason had arbitrarily picked. Mara followed Damian, but only after she rolled her eyes at his back. 

“What about you, Mara?” Jason asked, “Have you been to Kabul?”

“No,” she said shortly, as she gripped her backpack’s straps. Jason kind of wished he could see her face better, but she was walking in front of him now. He supposed it wasn’t surprising she and Damian hadn’t had the exact same experiences. 

“Have you ever left Nanda Parbat?” He hadn’t quite considered that a possibility, but he wasn’t sure _why._ Even _Athanasia_ had left Nanda Parbat, right?

“Yes,” she said, after hesitating for a moment. 

Damian turned and scowled at her, as he corrected her. “No, you haven’t.” 

“Yes I have,” she snapped back at him, “Grandfather sent me on missions.”

“ _Sure,”_ Damian said, in a little mocking tone that kind of made Jason regret he’d ever asked. Learning more about them was not worth them murdering each other. 

Mara didn’t rise to the bait, though, and instead stormed on forward. 

“I’ve been to France,” Athanasia said with a little skip in her step. They were cutting between buildings, following Damian’s lead, and there were no people in sight for the moment. 

Jason swung her arm some as he asked, “Yeah? What were you doing in France?” 

“Do you mean last year?” Damian asked, turning his head so he was looking down at Athanasia, “When Mother spent six months in France on an undercover mission?”

“Yes,” Attie said, grinning wide, “Mama took me with her.” 

Damian narrowed his eyes and turned back around, like Athanasia was making no sense to him. 

When he didn’t say anything else, Jason asked, “Can you speak French, then?”

“Oui,” Attie said, grinning so wide Jason could just feel the pride in herself Attie had. Then she shrugged a little and added, “Well. A little. Mama didn’t take me out much, but our housekeeper was really nice and liked to teach me.” 

Scowling, Damian turned back on Attie and snapped, “So you’re the reason Mother refused to take _me?_ ” 

The real lack of bite in Damian’s voice that made Jason frown. Six months alone with his mother was probably something he’d dreamed of. Jason certainly dreamed of those sorts of things, as a child. 

But what, exactly, was a secret child supposed to do for six months by herself? Starve to death? Maybe one day Damian would understand that… For now Jason would let him pout about it. 

Attie quit skipping, and looked rather down, too. “I wanted you to come, too,” she whispered, after a moment. 

All it accomplished was Damian pouting harder. 

Jason squeezed her hand, and tried to let it completely drop. He was done asking the kids personal questions. All it resulted in was tantrums and hurt feelings… 

Damian led the way for about fifteen minutes, bringing them past countless restaurants. So many of them smelled _amazing,_ and yet Damian didn’t give any of them a single glance. 

He was _probably_ bringing them somewhere specific, Jason assumed, so he tried to trust the little runt. But then he caught a whiff of a _magnificent_ smell wafting out the front door of a restaurant, and Jason couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Oh,” he said, as they were passing. He stopped in his tracks, and let Attie pull his arm a little before she, too, stopped to look with him. In the window was the restaurant’s menu taped up, and Jason felt like they were in heaven. “We’re here,” he declared, catching the attention of the other two. 

Jason didn’t give either brat the chance to voice any complaints as he entered the restaurant, trusting them to follow. Damian groaned, but did, indeed follow him inside with Mara by his side. 

“There is an excellent kabab restaurant three blocks-“ Damian tried, but Jason cut him off. 

“I want fucking pizza, we’re getting pizza. You know the last time I had pizza?”

“No,” Mara said dryly as she stood by Jason’s side, where they waited for a table to finish being cleared so they could sit. It was the only free one in the restaurant. 

“Me _either.”_ It was _definitely_ before he died, he knew that much. It was probably made by Alfred, too. 

“What’s pizza?” Attie asked helpfully, and Jason grinned. 

“Pizza is a gift from God.” 

Athanasia looked up at him, skepticism clear all over her face, while Damian scoffed loudly. 

“We are going to America, are we not?” Damian asked as they sat down around the table, after one of the staff gave them the go-ahead. 

Jason let the kids all sit down first, then took a seat next to Athanasia. “Yep.” 

“Then why can we not get pizza _there?”_ Damian said, even as he picked up a menu and started looking through it. 

After only a brief hesitation, Jason said, “Shut your trap, brat,” and looked down at the menu himself. It was in English, which was just _incredible._

Finally something felt _familiar._

None of the kids had any clue what they wanted, so Jason ordered a large for them to share. A classic supreme pizza with lots of black olives. When it arrived at the table, Jason was _not_ disappointed. 

Damian had, apparently, had pizza before because he knew how eat it. Both girls poked at it skeptically when Jason put a piece on their plates, but eventually picked it up and gave it a try. 

It was the best fucking pizza Jason had had in his _life._ Which, he knew logically, probably was not true, but it tasted _just like_ he remembered pizza being. 

“We could have had anything we wanted,” Mara whined, making a face after she took a bite, “and we get cheesy tomato bread.”

 _“Greasy_ cheesy tomato bread,” Damian corrected, even though he was half way through with his first piece. Stupid brat _clearly_ liked it. 

“Just eat it,” Jason said, poking at Mara’s plate to push it closer to her, “it’s good.” 

“It’s really not,” she complained. 

When Attie nodded in agreement with Mara, as she started picking off the olives from her piece, Jason sighed. “Fine, you brats get to pick dinner.”

Hopefully they didn’t turn their noses up at chilidogs, once they were in the U.S. Jason wasn’t sure he could handle them refusing to go get _those._

They passed most the day shopping. Damian was as big of a snob as Jason expected the son of a billionaire to be. Although, it was probably the whole, thinks-he’s-a-prince thing that made Damian scoff at every _single_ piece of clothing Jason tried to make him pick out. In the end, Jason picked a couple outfits out _for_ him. Damian could whine and pout about the ‘peasant’ clothes all he wanted, they weren’t going to look like assassins any longer than they had to. Damian’s robes would disappear that night, if that’s what it took. 

Mara and Athanasia, thankfully, did not protest at all, and picked themselves out a couple outfits that looked just like what every other little girl in Kabul was wearing. Attie had found a little dress with flowers all over it, and was _so_ excited about it she demanded to wear it immediately. 

Jason kind of loved how much it made her look her age. 

Damian brought them to the kebab place he’d mentioned, and all three kids were _much_ happier with the food there. Jason had to admit it was pretty good… 

Hopefully there were Afghan restaurants in Gotham. If only for the kids’ sake. He knew how much _he_ missed his comfort foods. 

The four of them found a small inn not far from the restaurant to retire at for the night. In the morning, Jason decided, they could go to the airport and figure out how to get _out_ of Afghanistan. One more night of _rest_ was something he wanted. 

Unlike the inn from the night before, this one had quite a few rooms for rent on three floors, and all but one were already filled. The man at the reception desk spoke English, meaning Jason was able to muddle through a conversation with him as he pretended to only know broken English. 

Despite being closer to the kind of hotel Jason was used to, the bathroom was shared by multiple rooms on their floor, and when they passed by it on the way to their room, Jason’s skin started to crawl. 

He hadn’t seen another guest yet, but he already _hated_ them all. He wasn’t even sure why. 

“I call first shower,” Damian declared, after he’d seen the bathroom did, indeed, include a shower, “the facilities last night were inadequate.” 

“Yeah, kay, whatever,” Jason mumbled, as he surveyed their room. It was smaller than the last room, but had a window. There was one king sized bed, and no floor cushions. 

At least the floor was _still_ better than dirt outside. 

Damian wasted no time pulling out some of his new clothes and the soap and a towel they’d been provided, so once he slipped out of the room to go shower, Jason dropped his stuff down near the door and sat down in the doorway to keep his eye on the bathroom. 

“Are you going to make us disarm again,” Mara asked, as she organized her bag, incorporating all the new stuff they’d bought. 

Jason opened his mouth to answer, but got distracted when a large man brushed passed their room and down the hall. He didn’t stop outside the bathroom, though, and kept going down to the room at the other end of the hall. 

“Jason?” Mara asked impatiently, when Jason kept staring at the closed door at the end of the hall. 

“Uh,” he stammered, because like _hell_ was he going to disarm that night. He almost didn’t want to take a shower, just to keep from having to be away from the kids that long.

“No,” he finally said, turning to look at the girls. Attie was sitting next to Mara on the bed, snacking on the trail mix she’d stolen from the food bag, kicking her feet as she did, just content looking as ever. “No,” he repeated, “but, God, just don’t stab each other, okay? Can you do that?” 

“Yeah,” Mara exasperated, zipping up her bag and dropping it on the ground next to her. She kicked her boots off, too, then put her legs up on the bed so she was sitting fully next to Athanasia. 

“I never stabbed you,” Attie said, smiling as she popped a raisin in her mouth, “And you pushed me that one time, remember?”

“Don’t eat all the raisins,” Mara complained, taking the bag out of Attie’s lap, “You’re going to ruin the whole bag.” Despite her protest, Mara very obviously fished out a piece of chocolate before she zipped the bag shut.

“I was eating that,” Attie whined, making grabby hands at the bag. 

“You don’t need it,” Mara snapped, holding the trail mix out of Athanasia’s reach, “We ate plenty today.” 

That didn’t dissuade Athanasia, though, because she scooted closer and tried her best to get the bag back.

When Mara pushed Attie, and the bag fell over, spilling out all over the bed Jason said, “Girls. Seriously?” What was even happening?

“She’s going to eat all the good stuff,” Mara said, helping Attie put the trail mix back in the zippy bag, “then it’ll be _ruined.”_

“I was eating the almonds, too.” 

Jason sighed as he stood. Once the girls had it all cleaned up, he took the bag, then gave both of them a handful. “It doesn’t matter, anyway,” he said, tossing a few pieces in his own mouth before he put it away, “We can _buy more,_ you know. I bet we could even find some with other fruits, like pineapple, mixed in.” 

“I love pineapple,” Attie exclaimed, as Damian tromped back into the room. 

“Everything okay?” Jason asked, when Damian scowled at the girls and flung himself on the bed. He’d only been away from his watch of the door for a minute, there was _no way_ anything had happened. 

“The water was cold,” Damian grumbled, as he picked at Attie’s trail mix, which was sitting on the bed between them, “Is a warm bath too much to ask?”

“Get your own,” Athanasia whined, covering her snack with her hands. 

“Can you kids not bicker for _ten seconds?”_

Maybe he _should_ go take a shower. If the kids got murdered in the five minutes he was gone, at least he’d have some peace. 

In the end, he decided against it. Aside from a quick trip to relieve himself and brush his teeth, Jason stayed in the room so he could keep an eye on all three of them. 

As the night went on, both girls got their showers done and Jason saw four more of their hotel neighbors. All were men. All were in their twenties, if he had to guess. 

He was happy when he was able to shut and lock their door for the night. Before the kids were allowed to go to sleep, Jason made them get their bags ready to go. He claimed he wanted to get going ASAP in the morning, and for some dumb reason they actually believed him. 

Somehow, they hadn’t caught on to his unease about the entire damn inn. Jason _almost_ made them put their boots back on and _leave._ But the thought of wandering the streets of an unfamiliar city after dark was more daunting than staying put. 

All three kids fell asleep rather quickly, all things considered, all sharing the bed, while Jason took the floor. He’d tried to lay down, like he had the night before, with a blanket and pillow stolen off the bed, but every time he closed his eyes, worry would gnaw at his stomach. Even when he took his gun out so he could hold it while he slept, something he’d had to do _countless_ times while out on missions for the League, he could not get himself to relax enough.

So, in the end, he sat there. With his back against the door he could hear and feel everything that went on outside their room. He watched as the kids slept peacefully, or, mostly peacefully, only occasionally twitching or sighing and looked forward to the day he could guarantee their safety. Looked forward to the day he could lay down in a bed and sleep, while all three of them did the same. 

That night was most certainly not the night. It came as a massive surprise when he finally dozed off, sometime well after midnight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA. Y'all thought THIS chapter would be the one where shit hit the fan. 😆 
> 
> I think part 1 has 7 more chapters, but I'm ALSO pretty sure I've said that like 5 chapters ago. This is gonna be a LOooooOoonnnggggg fic. I wonder if it'll be my longest fic. 🤔 (also what does it say about me that my two longest fics are about a teenager raising children????) 
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!!!! I go back to work next week, but only 2 days a week, so should still have plenty of time to write next week.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Something slammed to the ground in the hall outside their room. 

Jason had been asleep maybe two hours when it happened. But he was awake and on his feet when he heard someone grunt, and another slam a second later. 

“Up,” he hissed, at the kids. He had no idea what was going on, but they were _leaving._ The older two were already stirring, but Athanasia was dead asleep. 

“Up, _now.”_ He grabbed the blanket and pulled it off the kids, before turning to collect up all their shit. 

Damian jumped up, standing on the bed with his knife in his hand as he looked around. When someone outside shouted, his eyes widened and he looked down at Athanasia, who had merely rolled over and stretched her arms out. 

“Wake up,” Damian snapped, lightly kicking at Attie’s shoulder. Mara slipped her boots on, not bothering to lace them, and tossed Damian his. 

“Bag,” Jason said, as he collected up the bags and tossed them at each child. Attie was at least sitting up now, but looked like she had no idea what was going on. 

The shouting started up again outside, from down the hall and possibly in the stairwell. They weren’t speaking a language Jason recognized. 

Before the people got any closer to the door, Jason pushed the bed up against the door and opened the window, ready to get the kids the fuck out of there. Athanasia was still sitting on it, but was at least putting her boots on. 

“What are they saying?” he asked the kids, readying his gun , but Mara just shrugged. 

“I don’t speak Pashto,” Damian snapped, as he jammed Attie’s other boot on her foot, since she was going _so slow._

Athanasia jumped, hard, when the door knob jiggled. She looked at it, with wide eyes, and whispered, “Jason?” allowing Damian to drag her off the bed and toward the window. 

The window was easy to open, and a quick survey of their surroundings found the roof to be their easiest escape. Otherwise, it was a three story drop, and there was nothing between them and the hard ground beneath. 

“Hurry, to the roof,” Jason whispered harshly, as whoever it was _unlocked_ their door. 

Fucking _unlocked it._

Mara was first out the window. She didn’t protest Jason’s help, but she didn’t particularly need his push to get herself up on the roof. 

Whoever was at the door, started slamming it open, over and over, succeeding in getting the bed to budge, inch by inch. 

“Damian,” Jason said, holding a hand out to get him to go next. He let go of Athanasia, where he’d still been holding onto her arm, and scowled at Jason’s offered help. After batting Jason’s hand away, he vaulted himself up and out the window, effortlessly making it to the roof. 

The asshole at the door succeeded in getting the door open just enough that he was able to squeeze through. And there was no doubt now.

It was the league. 

Somehow, the league had found them. 

“Duck,” he shouted, when the assassin drew a throwing star and threw it at Jason. Athanasia was standing next to him and ducked without hesitation. Using his backpack, Jason shielded himself and caught the star. 

A quick double tap on his trigger brought the asshole to the ground, and Jason spun to Athanasia. 

“Up you go,” he said, as he helped her climb into the window. With a tight grip on her legs, he pushed her upward. Mara grabbed her arms and helped her pull up onto the roof, just as someone kicked at the door, making the bed slide a good six inches. 

Jason stuck around just long enough to shoot the new asshole. One he recognized as the _fucking desk clerk._ If he hadn’t been wearing the traditional robes of the League, Jason might have felt bad about shooting first and asking questions _never._

He didn’t. 

“The fucking _desk clerk_ was League,” he panted, once he pulled himself up on the roof to where the kids were waiting. 

Mara scowled, and asked, “What are we going to do?”

One of the windows near their room opened, and Jason pointed toward the next building, which was slightly shorter than their hotel. “ _Run_.” 

And so they ran, while a handful of ninjas jumped up on the roof.

They were able to jump three roofs before the gap was too large. That building had a balcony, half way down, so Jason helped each of the kids drop down onto it, before he leapt and prayed he didn’t break anything. Aside from a protesting ankle, he survived, so they repeated that to get to the ground, then took off running toward the city center. 

Jason looked back every block or so, to see if they were being trailed. 

They were. But they were moving quickly and erratically enough that throwing knives weren’t coming anywhere near them. 

“Where are we going?” Damian asked, once they rounded a corner and were out of sight for a second. 

And that was a _question._ “I don’t fucking know.” He knew very little about Kabul. 

“You don’t have a plan?” Damian exclaimed. 

Nope. He had _no_ plan. There was barely a plan for how to get out of Afghanistan. This entire thing was being done by the seat of their pants, hadn’t the brats _caught on_ yet?

“We need to find somewhere to blend in,” he panted, holding a hand out to stop the kids, as he stopped at the end of the alley. He poked his head out and looked both ways, seeing only an empty street. Still no ninjas were in sight, so he led the kids across the street to another alley. 

“It’s five in the morning,” Mara grumbled.

“I _know.”_ He was fucking _aware_ it was early and nothing was open. It’s not like ducking into a restaurant or store would be advisable _anyway._ That would just get them trapped. 

Jason _hated_ being cornered. 

They cut through two more alleys and wound up in a large intersection with several vehicles. Jason looked around frantically, and only saw a couple civilians milling about and half a dozen cars parked up against the building. 

Ducking behind one of the cars, so they were hiding between it and the building, Jason said, “I think we need to find a building to hide in.” When all three kids huddled around him, he added, “Do you know of any abandoned buildings, Damian?” 

“No,” Damian answered, “But I know where the League has safe houses.”

On second thought, going somewhere with which Damian was familiar was a terrible idea. That’s what got them caught in the first place. Going to Damian’s favorite restaurant and staying at a nearby hotel. Damian was _League_ when he learned about all these places. 

“Yes, let’s just hand ourselves over to Grandfather,” Mara scoffed. 

“Ravi!” Athanasia exclaimed, almost _shouted,_ startling both Jason and Damian, who both snapped their attention to her. 

Before Jason could ask ‘ _what?’_ Athanasia _took off._

Like. _Bolted._

_“Athanasia,”_ he hollered, running after her. She stopped abruptly, right in front of an elderly man Jason had barely noticed. Mostly because he was, well, very old and frail looking. Hardly a threat in his book. 

The elderly man bowed before Athanasia, and dread coiled deep in Jason’s gut. 

“Lady Athanasia,” the man said, before he turned to Damian and Mara, who had followed and were now standing on either side of Jason, just behind Athanasia. “Lord Damian, Lady Mara.” 

“Ravi? You’re alive?” Damian said, in clear disbelief. He turned to Attie and said, “You _know_ Ravi?”

“ _Who_ is Ravi?” Mara asked, echoing Jason’s own thoughts. Someone from the fucking _League of Assassins_ was the absolute _last person_ they needed to be having a catch up session with! 

And what the fuck did Damian mean ‘ _You’re alive?_ ’

“Ravi used to play with me,” Athanasia said, grinning widely at Ravi. 

With another bow, Ravi turned to Jason and said, “Ra’s men are still searching. Please, follow me.” 

Following strangers went against _everything_ Jason believed in. That was quite literally how children got murdered.

Damian and Athanasia followed him easily, though, which made Mara look at Jason. Probably for direction, or something. Fuck.

Shit. He didn’t _know_ what to do.

“Do you think we can trust him?”

“Well,” Mara said slowly, turning back to see Ravi and the other kids a couple yards away already, “Lady Talia let him know about Athanasia.” 

Jason nodded. “Good point.” If worse came to worst, Jason knew he could take Ravi. 

The possible assassins he was leading them to, on the other hand…

Ravi ducked into a shop just as Jason and Mara caught up with them. As soon as they were all inside, Ravi shut the door and locked it. The cluttered, small store seemed to be one that sold primarily hobby supplies and knick knacks, considering the shelves were filled with random decor pieces and art supplies. 

They did not linger long in the storefront, however, because Ravi led them back behind the desk into a back room. 

“How did you find us?” Damian asked, casually following Ravi, looking around curiously as they maneuvered around the even _more_ cluttered back room to a staircase.

“I keep my ear to the ground,” Ravi said cryptically, as he unlocked a door at the top of the stairs, and ushered them all inside.

Mara scowled and said, “That makes no sense.”

Through the door was a residence, small, and much more orderly than the store downstairs. The front room was the kitchen and dining room, and Ravi stopped in the kitchen. 

“I knew Ra’s was looking for four children who were in Kabul and intercepted a message about your whereabouts,” he said, turning toward the kids, “I waited outside, hoping to find you pass through here. I was not disappointed.” 

“Who _are_ you?” Jason demanded. If this guy _was_ league, he did _not_ want to be trusting him. 

“Forgive me,” Ravi said with a deep bow directed toward Jason, “I am Ravi. I was once in service to Lady Talia as the primary caretaker for both Lord Damian and Lady Athanasia.” 

_‘Once’_ in service?

_Former_ league… might be okay. 

“I thought you were executed,” Damian said, his voice a little unsure. 

An alarm went off, making Jason jump. Looking around, Jason could not figure out the source of the sound at all. 

“Someone has forced the door open,” Ravi said frantically, kneeling down as he opened one of the lower cupboards, quickly removing the pots stored inside, “I will explain everything later.”

The cabinets were sitting against the wall that, at a glance, appeared to be shared with a closet. When Ravi pushed the false back of the cabinet to the side, however, a hidden passage was revealed. 

“No one will find you there,” Ravi said, as he shone a light, letting them see the ladder, “Please. I will come when it is clear.” 

Jason hated _everything._

Like _fuck_ did he want to climb down a dark fucking passage into God knew what. 

He neither wanted to go down first, leaving the kids alone with Ravi, nor go _last,_ leaving the kids to discover whether the passage led somewhere safe. 

Before he could make up his mind, which he’d prefer, Damian slipped into the cabinet, feet first, and quickly climbed down the ladder. Damian’s blind trust in Ravi was _not_ making Jason feel better. 

Something crashed downstairs, and Jason pushed Athanasia toward the cabinet. If those were fucking ninjas downstairs, they _sucked,_ but Jason did _not_ want to be standing in that kitchen once they made their way up into the residence. 

They were _not_ in a good location.

“Hurry,” Ravi said, as Mara went next. 

Quiet footsteps ascended the stairs, which were only audible due to the extremely creaky wood, so Jason took a deep breath and launched himself into the cabinet, feet first as he slid his body down into the passage. Once he was fully inside and gripping the ladder, Ravi slid the back of the cabinet back and, based on the clanking of the pots, put the pots back and shut the door.

Jason was left in pitch black. 

He had to close his eyes and focus on breathing, just to keep from freaking out _more_ as he slowly descended the ladder. It went down a good twenty feet, and with every step down, Jason’s heart rate kicked up faster.

They were _so_ trapped. He had no idea what was below him, and no idea what, exactly, they were up against. 

“Jay,” Athanasia whispered, once Jason landed on the ground. 

Opening his eyes, he looked and saw a crawl space, illuminated by a light somewhere deep in the crawl space. When Jason crouched down, he saw it led to a larger room, where all three kids were sitting, looking around. 

At least it wasn’t tiny and _dark,_ he thought. Small mercies. 

Jason put a finger to his mouth as he took his bags off and pushed them through the crawlspace. Damian took his bags and put them in a pile, where the kids had already ditched theirs. 

Once he got all the way into the room, he took a seat next to Attie and looked around. The room appeared to be some sort of bunker, not unlike panic rooms Jason had seen in the past. There was everything needed to survive for a period of time. Food. Clothes. Bedding. Even a small kitchenette, complete with a sink and burner. Through a door, there even appeared to be a _bathroom._

The fact they _could_ survive in that tiny room for possibly _weeks_ did nothing to comfort Jason. 

They were trapped. They had willingly and unquestioningly backed themselves up into a corner. Into what could easily become a prison cell. 

“Can we really trust a defector?” Mara whispered, apparently on the same train of thought as Jason. 

On the one hand, a defector could easily be the _most_ trustworthy person, eager to help _others_ defect from the league, too. But on the other hand, Ravi could use this as an in, back into the league. Ra’s would likely welcome back _anyone_ if they came with his three grandchildren in tow. 

“Ravi was always loyal to Mother,” Damian whispered back, “ _not_ Grandfather. It is why Grandfather ordered his execution.” 

“Ravi is the best,” Attie added, leaning up against Jason as she clearly got comfortable. 

With a finger to his mouth, he reminded the kids to _shut up._ The last thing they needed was to draw attention to their hiding place. Even _if_ they were obviously in a secret basement, it wasn’t entirely impossible for sound to carry up and reveal themselves. 

Jason felt way too shaky to do anything more than sit there, focusing on his breathing.

They were so royally fucked. He just knew it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started back work this week. :D I was in two days this week, and next week it'll be three days. Right now the plan is I'll be in three days a week until we're allowed to be at 100%, so who knows how long that'll take. 
> 
> Going to work on Tuesday wiped me OUT, I was so exhausted. Not so much yesterday, but still was a bit tired. A combo of that and the fact there was action in this scene is what delayed it so much. I always take longer to write chapters with action. 😆
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'll try my best to get next week's chapter out next week.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

They sat in silence for what felt like hours. 

Jason tried to listen for the intruders, he did. But other than a single pair of foot steps about half an hour after they climbed into the safe room, Jason heard nothing. 

After two hours passed, Jason started to get antsy.

 _Started._ Ha. 

He’d been antsy since the second Talia woke him up in the middle of the night, what felt like a lifetime ago. His antsy merely intensified.

Athanasia was evidently entirely unconcerned, because she curled up against Jason and _fell asleep_ within minutes of getting trapped down there _._

“I think we should try to get out of here,” Jason said, after he was _positive_ it had been three hours. If they were, indeed, trapped, it was about time they faced the music. 

“Ravi has not come for us,” Damian said, lying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. He had been working through a few katas silently to pass the time, but had finally stopped to lounge around twenty minutes prior.

Jason might have joined him in the exercise, just to have something to do, but he loathed to wake Athanasia. 

Mara had spent their time sitting there, basically pouting. She had her arms crossed and was glaring straight ahead, at the empty wall in front of her. No doubt complaining to herself about how Jason had got her stuck in such a situation. _Jason_ had been cursing himself for the same reason, after all. 

“Just because _you_ trust Ravi doesn’t mean he is _actually_ trustworthy,” Mara snarled, still sitting there with a scowl on her face and her arms crossed. She didn’t even bother looking over at Damian.

Damian tutted and said, “Ravi is an honorable-“

“You said Grandfather ordered him executed for insubordination,” Mara exclaimed, cutting Damian off before he could finish defending his old caretaker. 

“Voices,” Jason hissed, lowly. He wanted to _leave_ the bunker, not attract people _to_ it. 

Both kids scowled at him, momentarily, before turning back to each other. Damian’s glower could kill a man, Jason was fairly certain, but the little punk did not say anything further.

“What did he do?” Mara asked, voice much quieter now. Not quite a whisper, but low enough Jason was confident it could not be heard outside the room.

“I don’t know,” Damian admitted, similarly lowering his voice, “Mother only told me when I was presented a new teacher.” 

“Hm,” Mara hummed, almost taunting, “Your teachers often turn up dead, don’t they?”

Jason honestly expected Damian to jump her over that. He was dreading having to jostle Attie while he jumped across the room to catch Damian, but all Damian did was frown and advert his gaze from Mara. 

“Why are you being loud,” Athanasia mumbled, still curled up against Jason’s side, “Hiding time is the best time to sleep.”

“I cannot sleep in such an indefensible position,” Mara snapped, and Jason silently agreed. 

It was one thing to be hiding somewhere no one knew about, like in their rock cave several nights before. Quite another to be trapped where a _League member_ knew… former or not. 

Until they knew they could trust Ravi, Jason didn’t see himself sleeping a wink. 

“Athanasia,” Damian bit out, turning his attention to the little girl, “Do you know why Grandfather had Ravi… ordered executed?”

“Yeah,” Attie said, pushing herself into a sitting position before she continued, “He thought Ravi was keeping secrets and working against the League, cause he’d come play with me when Mama was away. She said Grandfather thought Ravi tree— trees—“ 

When she looked up at Jason helplessly, he offered, “Treasonous?” 

“Yeah, that, cause he disappeared when Mama wasn’t around and would not tell Grandfather where he went.” 

“Talia told you this,” Jason asked, because it seemed like a lot to be telling a little child. Jason wouldn’t tell a little kid _why_ their caretaker was to be executed… 

If he could help it. Sometimes his stupid mouth moved without his brain’s permission. 

Attie nodded. “She had to explain cause no one could come check on me anymore while she was gone.” 

“What—“ Jason hesitated, “What did you when Talia was away for more than a couple days?”

How did Athanasia feed herself? Did she hide in a damn closet for weeks on end? Jason knew Talia’s quarters were larger than the apartment he’d grown up in, but still… To be confined to that, all alone? 

“Mama took me with her,” Attie said, so brightly it warmed Jason, a little. 

He still couldn’t figure out how the logistics of _that_ worked, either, but clearly Talia had got by with sneaking Athanasia away without repercussions. At least, not until the week prior. 

“That is why she brought you to France,” Damian stated, looking incredibly conflicted for a kid that usually just got mad and stabbed his problems. Or… tried to stab. Did he ever actually succeed in stabbing people? Jason couldn’t imagine it was encouraged he stab his servants and teachers and Mara all the time, just because he was angry. 

Then again, maybe he was kept too busy with training to get angry.

“It seems,” Mara said, “Talia’s treacherous ways have dragged many down with her. I always knew your line—“

“Mara,” Jason interrupted tiredly. Why’d she have to keep poking at Damian? The hornets’ nest was quiet, why couldn’t she let it _be._

The door upstairs scraped open, and all four of them jumped at the sound. As the ladder creaked under the weight of _whoever_ was on their way, Jason pulled his gun from his waist, and the older two kids similarly produced knives. 

A moment later, however, Ravi kneeled down and looked in through the crawl space and smiled.

“Forgive the delay,” he said, from still outside the room. Not much light reached him where he was, but there was just enough to see Ravi’s freshly split lip and bandage around his arm. Jason frowned. 

“I had to tidy up after our guests,” Ravi continued, “and ensure they left no… unwanted presents for us.” 

Damian perked up and asked, “Did they leave any bugs?”

“No, my lord. They seemed satisfied with my answers that I do not know anything about any traitors.” 

Mara huffed loudly, but before she could whine about not wanting to defect, or whatever she was mad about in that moment, Damian asked, “Did they recognize you as a defector?”

“No. I am but a simple shopkeeper. This shop has been in my family for generations.” 

Right.

“Why don’t you join me upstairs,” Ravi said, as he stood back up, leaving only his feet visible, “I have prepared some tea.”

Is this guy serious a League of Assassins _Alfred_? Tea fixed everything, didn’t it?

Damian and Athanasia both hopped up, clearly excited, and started toward the exit.

“Nah uh,” Jason asserted, as he pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his bags, “I’m going first.”

If this Ravi guy was leading them to a trap, Jason was gonna shoot as many assholes as he could before any of the kids got near them.

Jason forced himself through the crawl space and latched onto the ladder before he stood up. As much as he wanted to close his eyes as he climbed onto the first rung of the ladder, he forced himself to keep them open. 

Now was not the time to be a fucking coward, he told himself. 

Thankfully, with the cabinet above open, Jason was able to see _some._ So it wasn’t pitch black. And once Ravi crawled out through the cabinet, Jason was able to see _more,_ without Ravi’s body blocking the light source. 

He steadied his breath as he got to the top of the ladder, and tossed his bags out first. He wasn’t fond of _not_ having his weapon bag on him, but it would be difficult to crawl out with it hanging off him. All Jason could picture happening was it getting caught on the ladder, and that momentary distraction costing him his life. 

Once he crawled out of the cabinet, however, finishing his exit in a roll to his feet, Jason breathed a sigh of relief.

They really _were_ alone.

And true to Ravi’s word, there was a pot of tea sitting on the table, with five empty cups waiting.

“It’s clear,” Jason said, before Damian got to the top of the ladder.

“I _know,”_ Damian huffed, glaring at Jason as he crawled out, “I could have told you that.”

Like Jason would have believed it.

“Ravi, why was I told you had been executed?” Damian demanded the very second he was fully standing in Ravi’s kitchen.

“I regret you were not let in on the secret,” Ravi said, with actual remorse in his eyes. As if _he_ would be sorry he was not dead, or something. Because it was fucking _Damian’s_ feelings and life that mattered more than the dude _being executed_. 

Fuck the whole ‘servant’ bullshit the League had. They weren’t servants. They were _slaves,_ and if Jason thought about it too long he got _pissed._

“Lady Talia faked my execution and arranged for my escape,” Ravi continued, “For it to succeed, no one could know about it.”

“Athanasia knew,” Damian said petulantly, accusation in his voice. Despite the scowl on his face, the slight tremble in his lip betrayed how _upset_ he really was.

Okay. 

So maybe… if Ravi _was_ to Damian what Alfred was to Jason… he would have been pretty damned upset if Alfred got killed. Or he thought he got killed but really he just moved to New York and didn’t tell him. 

But _Alfred_ still wasn’t a slave. Or even a servant, despite technically holding the position of ‘butler’ to the Wayne family. So it wasn’t quite the same.

Athanasia pulled herself through the cabinet next and immediately launched herself at Ravi, wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

“No one knew about Lady Athanasia,” Ravi responded, before returning Attie’s hug with a, “I have missed you, as well, my lady.” 

Damian opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut and stomped over to the living room they could see through an open door. He flung himself down on a seat, crossing his arms and outright _pouting._

Whatever. 

Mara crawled out of the cabinet, then just stood there. In the middle of the kitchen. Staring dully at the wall with her arms crossed. 

Cool. Two brats in moods.

“Please,” Ravi said, as he pulled away from Athanasia finally to motion toward the table, “join me for some tea.”

As Jason and the girls took a seat, Ravi poured each of them a glass and said with a raised voice, “Your tea will grow cold, Lord Damian.” 

Jason smirked into his tea as Damian stomped back into the kitchen, a murderous scowl on his face. Ravi wasn’t even fazed. 

This guy _was_ a League of Assassins Alfred, wasn’t he?

The tea was delicious. Jason waited for Ravi to drink some of his, but figured the old man had had plenty of opportunities to kill them already, so it was highly unlikely to be poison. He didn’t recognize the flavor as any of Alfred’s favorites to serve, but Jason never once claimed to be a tea aficionado. 

Each of the kids added a little brown sugar to their cups, while Jason was content with the flavor as it was. They enjoyed the tea in silence for a bit, and Jason was more than happy to have the moment to relax. He fucking _deserved_ it. 

It had been a ridiculously long week, and he knew they had likely at least another week of traveling ahead of them. Not to mention whatever the fuck faced them once they ‘arrived.’ 

Pushing the thought of _arrival_ out of his head, Jason simply enjoyed the peace of the moment.

“Lady Talia informed me of her mission before she left,” Ravi eventually said, after a sip of his tea.

“Like, that we were leaving the League,” Jason asked, trying not to visibly pout that the peaceful moment was, apparently, over.

“Yes. I was saddened to hear about the outcome, however I am glad you four have made it this far.”

Jason sank down in his seat a little and mumbled, “This far doesn’t feel very far at all.” They were barely 400 miles from the League’s compound. 

Ravi nodded. “I assume you wish to leave via the airport?”

“Yeah. Our next stop is New Delhi.” 

“What?” Damian demanded.

Mara was quick to follow up with, “ _Why?”_

“I thought we were going to America,” Athanasia whispered, and Jason wanted to pound his face against the table. 

“You can’t fly from Kabul to America, guys.”

“Yes you _can,”_ Damian objected, “Maybe not direct, but—“

“Not on fake Afghan passports and no visa you _can’t_ ,” Jason snapped, “Talia has better documents waiting for us, but we have to get them. If we want into the U.S. with minimal questioning, which we _do,_ we need U.S. passports, kay?”

Jason was _not_ going to subject himself to intensive questioning by customs agents. Actually, he kind of doubted they’d be allowed on the plane in the _first_ _place_ without a visa, anyway. If they flew from Afghanistan. They needed to fly in from one of the countries the U.S. didn’t require visas from with appropriate passports. Period. There was no getting around that. 

“You will be questioned quite extensively if you attempt to fly as armed as you are,” Ravi pointed out.

Jason… hadn’t thought about that.

Shit. 

_Fuck._

They would have to disarm c _ompletely_ in order to board a plane. 

Jason’s heart rate spiked just thinking about it. And if they ditched their weapons, he wouldn’t have _any_ upon arriving in Gotham. 

The thought of facing— of stepping foot into Gotham without a means of defense—

“I believe I can be of service in that regard,” Ravi said, dragging Jason back to the moment.

Ravi stood from the table and walked over to a bookshelf that was mostly populated by cookbooks and kitchen supplies. Pulling one of the larger cookbooks out, Ravi turned back to them and revealed the book was actually a _box._ And inside was a stack of… cards. Of some sort.

“You have some?” Damian asked in amazement, “I have always wanted one of these.”

“Then this is for you, my lord,” Ravi said, handing Damian one of the cards before he distributed one to each of the rest of them. 

“What is it,” Jason asked, staring down at what was just a piece of plastic the size of a credit card. One side had printing on it. A symbol with Arabic script next to it and a string of numbers at the bottom. Whatever the language was, Jason did not recognize. The card reminded him of a library card, though. 

When Damian folded his card in half, the true purpose became clear. 

“These appear as simple cards to the x-ray machines,” Ravi explained, as he walked the girls through how to fold the cards like Damian had, “However, when you hold it and apply pressure with your fingers here,” he moved Athanasia’s thumb to one corner, “and here,” he moved her pinkie to another corner, “it transforms into a knife.”

“It is not good for throwing,” he continued, “however it can stab through anything your standard knife can.” 

“Cool,” Jason said, when he got his card to turn into a knife, too. Running his finger along the blade showed it was _sharp._ He had no idea how they managed to make plastic act that way. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely plastic? 

Where should he stash it? In a wallet seemed like the most logical spot. That would attract the least amount of scrutiny to it, going through airport security. Although he did not _own_ a wallet…

They had to go shopping again, didn’t they?

Also, how easily accessible would it be in a wallet? 

“It is not the best, but if you stick to highly populated areas, you should be safe,” Ravi said, placing the cookbook disguised box back on the shelf. 

“So what are we supposed to do with our weapons?” Jason asked, after he folded his knife back into its card form and set it on the table. Maybe if they rearranged their stuff and only carried their backpacks onto a plane, they could get most of their knives into his duffle bag and check that. 

He wasn’t a fan of having to wait around to retrieve a checked bag, but if it meant they wouldn’t be defenseless while wandering random cities in Asia and Europe…

“I can hold onto anything you cannot check,” Ravi said, following Jason’s train of thought, “And once you arrive in your destination, I have means of smuggling such items into America so they may be returned to you.” 

“We can’t just check twenty knives,” Jason said mournfully. _That_ would arouse a shit ton of suspicion. Why would four kids need so many? Actually, Jason would not be surprised if they had closer to forty between them and his weapon bag. 

“No,” Ravi agreed, “but we can disguise ten or so to look like a collector set.” 

After that, they spent the remaining morning hours unpacking their bags and rearranging their supplies to look more ‘touristy.’ 

“You must look the part,” Ravi had said, “if you wish to pass as simple tourists, headed to India for a short holiday.” 

After moving all their camping supplies to the duffle and redistributing the remaining food between the four backpacks to look more like ‘flight snacks,’ Ravi helped Jason put together a list of supplies they needed to fill out the bags. Ravi did the shopping trip for them, leaving the four of them in his apartment to prepare lunch. 

Well. _Jason_ prepared the lunch, following a simple recipe Ravi translated to English for him before he left. 

Jason put the kids on guard, and had them keep an eye on the cameras in the closed shop, as well as the entrances of the building, just to be sure no one could sneak up on them. If it also kept them apart and quiet, that was just a bonus. 

That afternoon, they would finish packing their bags and purchase plane tickets. 

They were _finally_ going to leave Afghanistan. 

Jason couldn’t be more ecstatic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kids are taking baby steps toward each other. It warms my heart. 😢🥰 (we really need that first emoji but with a smile face.)
> 
> I've got vacation coming up in a few weeks. I've also been slowly getting later and later with chapters this past few weeks, so I might take some skip time to catch up. Or randomly write MORE stuff. Haven't decided. So there will be some skipped weeks for both this and the best things in the coming month and a half, just a heads up.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Their flight was scheduled for 10 the next morning.

Ravi exchanged a chunk of their money, plus some of Talia’s he had been holding onto, for a prepaid card, making it _tons_ easier for them to purchase the plane tickets. It meant they didn’t have to look suspicious as fuck for dolling out huge wads of cash for last minute plane tickets. 

Also, it meant they wouldn’t have said wads of cash when moving through customs. Apparently that was something that agents looked out for. Because drug smuggling, or something.

Jason might have technically been smuggling three kids out of the country, but no one needed to _know_ that. He wasn’t _human trafficking_ or anything, just rescuing some stupid annoying little brats from a dumb death cult. 

Actually, only Mara was really being smuggled into the U.S. he thought idly as Ravi helped them set up their sleeping arrangements for the night. Mara wasn’t a U.S. citizen like the rest of them. At least, not legally. Not _technically._ Jason was confident whatever papers Talia had drawn up for her were air-tight, though, and would appear legal enough to not give them trouble. 

Ravi purchased them enough stuff to convince the border agents they were just tourists, too, so really getting out of the country should be a breeze. As tourists, their tickets had to be round trip. Jason had originally been annoyed they would have to waste the money on round trip, until he realized it didn’t save _that much_ to purchase round trip over one way. 

The living room in Ravi’s apartment had two small windows. Long before the sun set, Ravi drew the blinds, though, so no one could see into the apartment. They’d had a debate on where to sleep. Ravi had suggested the safe room, since it was the only room he could _guarantee_ as safe, but climbing back down into that creepy ass, tiny basement was the last thing Jason wanted to do.

Or, well. Maybe not the _last_ thing, but it certainly wasn’t at the top of his list, either.

In the end, the living room had been the compromise. 

Since Ravi was _confident_ the assassins had cut their losses and moved on, Jason was trying to trust it. And even if they _hadn’t,_ Ravi walked Jason through what security systems the building had, and even _Jason_ was confident they’d be warned the instant someone breached the perimeter. 

It wasn’t _perfect,_ and Jason didn’t feel fully safe, but it beat sleeping out under the stars.

Ravi dropped an armful of blankets in the middle of the living room, and finished helping Athanasia and Damian set up little ‘beds’ made from cushions and pillows in the room. 

“I do apologize for not having better accommodations,” he said, as he finished preparing Attie’s bed, “it is not often I have guests.”

“This is fine,” Jason said, stretching out on his little ‘bed,’ which he was kind of happy hadn’t been invaded by Athanasia. All four of them had chosen different walls of the room.

Mara had already lay down, and was either asleep, or pretending to be.

She hadn’t said much at all all day, and was pissed they were there in the first place. It was not her favorite thing, trusting a ‘defector.’ 

Reminding her that _she_ was a defector, too, was not the right thing to do.

Jason hadn’t decided if he cared.

Athanasia and Damian stayed up a little longer, each of them chatting with Ravi about random, mundane things. 

Once they turned out the lights, all three kids went quiet, and they all seemed to fall asleep instantly. They’d agreed on no watch that night. Just because of the security system. 

And Ravi. 

Damian had sworn Ravi was a light sleeper.

So was Jason, so he wasn’t worried. 

But even with their perceived safety, it took Jason hours to fall asleep. His sleep was fitful, at best. He woke many times during the night. Whenever one of the kids shifted in their sleep. When the house ‘settled.’ When Ravi got up to use the restroom. When the wind blew strangely outside.

All around, it was the worst night he’d had thus far, as far as relaxing went. Because even at the hotel, once he’d fallen asleep, he’d _been_ asleep. 

Sometime around 5 in the morning, he stirred again at movement in the room. He cracked an eye open, just enough to see Damian get up and trudge out of the room. 

When the bathroom door closed a second later, Jason rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. 

He couldn’t, though. 

No matter how hard he tried.

Instead, he found himself listening for the bathroom door to open again and Damian to return to the living room. 

Several minutes went by, during which time Jason considered rolling back over and looking to see if Damian had somehow magically returned, silently, he finally heard the bathroom door open. 

But Damian did not return to the living room. 

Jason groaned to himself, very quietly so not to wake the girls, and considered getting up to check on the stupid little brat. 

“Lord Damian, I trust you slept well?” Ravi said, in a hushed tone from the kitchen. 

Right. Okay. Ravi was awake. Cool. 

Maybe Jason could actually get some sleep, then. Knowing Ravi was awake and watching over the kids. Keeping Damian entertained, or whatever.

“Well enough, yes,” Damian replied, and Jason shut his eyes, willing the sleep to take him. Their voices were quiet enough he had to strain to hear, so it shouldn’t be difficult to tune them out.

_Why the fuck was a literal eight-year-old up at 5am, anyway?_

Some dishes clanked against each other, and Ravi asked, “Would you like some tea?”

“Yes,” Damian said. After a long pause, he added, “Please.” 

“Certainly, my lord.” 

Jason couldn’t help but smirk. 

Time passed, after that. He wasn’t sure how much, but he was jolted back to full awareness when Mara snorted in her sleep, then rolled over. 

The sounds in the kitchen were muted, and few. He could hear when the teacups were placed back on the table. Heard one of them take a particularly loud sip at one point. Could smell the tea… 

He’d never been a huge fan of tea, but it was almost tempting enough to get him up to see if _he_ could have a cup. 

But then Damian whispered, “Why did you keep this secret from me?” and Jason decided maybe he should just… not. 

“It was not my secret to tell,” Ravi said plainly. 

Teacups clanked again, and it was a long moment before Damian spoke again. Jason almost wished the living room door was shut, so he couldn’t hear the conversation. He felt… almost wrong. Intruding on it. 

Damian nearly whispered, “I trusted you.”

Ravi hummed, then asked, “But you did not trust Lady Talia?”

“Well, I _did._ But…”

“Lord Damian,” Ravi said, sighing, “if I may.”

There was a pause, during which time Damian must have nodded, or something, because Ravi continued, “It was never your mother’s decision how much time she spent with you. Your grandfather took you from her when you were an infant.”

Jason pulled his pillow up and over his face, forcing himself to _not_ growl in frustration. 

Because. 

Yeah.

Fuck Ra’s al Ghul.

“So she made a new kid instead of fight for me?” Damian asked. Jason could hear the scorn in his voice. 

“Athanasia was already in existence when you were taken.”

Damian was quiet for several seconds, hesitating, before he finally said, “She was?”

“Yes,” Ravi said solemnly, “I cannot pretend to know exactly what was going on in her mind, but I will tell you, I advised her to take Athanasia to your father rather than raise her in secret.”

That would have definitely been better for Attie. 

Beyond _definitely._

But Jason couldn’t help but wonder if Bruce would have accepted them. And, if he did, would he have still adopted Jason…

Not that Jason _cared._ Getting adopted by Bruce was what got him _killed._

It was also what got him off the street, though… 

And would Damian and Mara have been able to escape the League? Cause as much as he wanted to murder the two brats, or ditch them the first chance he got, he _also_ didn’t want them spending any more time in the League. 

There was absolutely _no place_ for children in the League. 

Maybe Talia should have packed them _all_ up when they were babies and taken them to Bruce. 

“Then why didn’t she?” Damian demanded, and even though Jason couldn’t see him, he just _knew_ Damian had his stupid little scowl on his face. The one he made when trying to look all tough and challenging. 

Because eight-year-olds ever looked scary. 

“Because,” Ravi explained gently, “she refused to leave you.”

“Then…Why did she not tell me? Did she think I would pick Grandfather over her?”

“Would you have?”

Mara would have, Jason thought. And considering Damian had been trying to convince Talia not to defect, that first night, before Deathstroke found them, there’s a decent chance Damian would have, as well. 

But Damian protested, a touch too loud for 5 in the morning with sleeping kids in the next room, “No! Obviously I _didn’t._ I stayed with that buffoon Jason rather than return to Grandfather because she asked.”

“At least I’m not a demon,” Jason grumbled under his breath, not that Damian nor Ravi could hear him. Mara shifted, though, so Jason lifted the pillow off his face and looked over. 

But she had her eyes closed, and looked just as asleep as she had been all night. 

“My point is,” Ravi said, his voice still calming and gentle. He reminded Jason _so much_ of Alfred. God, he missed Alfred. “She loved you just as much as she loved Lady Athanasia. It was your grandfather that got in her way of spending time with you.”

“She could have tried harder.” 

“How so?”

“She could have taken me to France last year,” Damian complained, his eight-year-old attitude shining through, “I _begged_ her to take me. She told me begging does not become me and did not allow me to mention it again.”

“Do you believe your grandfather would have allowed you to abandon your training for six months?”

“Mother could have—“ Damian started, but paused for a moment and said, in a defeated tone, “No.”

“No,” Ravi parroted, “Lord Damian, I hope you one day come to understand it was not your mother to blame for any of this, but your grandfather.”

“But, Grandfather…” Damian said, trailing off, like he didn’t know where to go with that. 

Ra’s brainwashing ran deep, Jason knew. It was going to take a lot of fucking work to rinse it out of both the kids. 

As nervous as Ravi had made Jason, he was fucking _glad_ they ran into him. If only for his words to Damian. 

Hopefully Mara was awake and listening, too…

That would be very helpful to Jason. 

“I will admit, here in the freedom outside the League,” Ravi said, “I never liked Ra’s. It was always Lady Talia to whom I was loyal.”

“But, he—“ Damian said, clearly scandalized, “He’s Ra’s al Ghul, he’s—“

Heh. 

Damian couldn’t finish the sentence. 

_Good._

“What is the phrase he was fond of saying to you?” Ravi asked, when Damian had floundered for a full minute. Jason kind of wished he could see his face, to see what confused and lost looked like. Rather than just the angry and mean he’d been seeing. 

“Which one?”

“You exist at…” Ravi prompted, and Jason already hated where it was going. 

Damian inhaled sharply, then finished, almost too quiet for Jason to hear,“…at his sufferance.”

Okay.

Okay okay okay. 

Yeah. 

_Fuck Ra’s al Ghul._

“Do you know what that means?” Ravi asked, and his gentle tone was kind of helping _Jason_ keep calm, but not really. 

It wasn’t helping Damian, either, apparently, because Damian said, “Yes,” shortly, and Jason could practically hear Damian’s clenched teeth. 

Or maybe that was just him projecting. Because he’d clenched his jaw and fists, all in an attempt to release his anger _without_ hitting something. 

He _really_ needed to hit something. Preferably Ra’s stupid fucking face. 

Who the _fuck_ told a child they exist merely at their _whim._ ‘I could kill you whenever I want,’ basically. 

Well, Ra’s had said shit like that to _Jason._ But he was _Jason._ He already _knew_ Ra’s hated his guts and only let him live because of Talia. Damian was Ra’s _grandson._

Didn’t that mean fucking _anything?_

Jason didn’t think he could get any angrier, then Ravi asked, “Do you agree with it?” and Damian fucking _hesitated._

_Hesitated._

“I—“ he started, but floundered again. 

And Jason couldn’t help it. He rolled over and punched the floor. _Hard._

Because _how the fuck_ could a kid as aggressively confident as _Damian al Ghul_ honestly _agree_ that his grandfather had complete control over whether he deserved to _live._

Jason wanted to _scream._

Both girls jumped, when he hit the ground, Attie so violently she fell off the cushions she was lying on. 

Looking out the living room door into the kitchen, Jason could see both Damian and Ravi staring at him, and could feel the eyes of both girls on him, too, so he said, “Sorry, but _fuck_ Ra’s.” 

“Fuck _you,”_ Damian shouted back, jumping up from his chair and storming out of the kitchen. He slammed the door to Ravi’s room, and then threw something at the wall shared with the living room. 

Hearing Damian say _that_ was enough to snap Jason out of the fog of rage he was trying to suppress. The kid was _eight._

Jason really hoped he wasn’t the one to teach Damian that word.

Maybe… maybe he should stop cussing so much in front of the kids. 

Ravi sighed, loudly, but did not get up to chastise Damian. “One day, he will understand,” he said, instead, loudly enough Jason knew Ravi was speaking to him.

“Maybe,” Jason said, once he’d taken a breath and sat up, “but Ra’s brainwashed them pretty good. He’s one giant bastard.”

“I am right here,” Mara said tersely, but didn’t object to anything else. 

Maybe she had heard the entire conversation, too…

“Perhaps, but not as thoroughly as you might think,” Ravi said, as he stood, “Would you three like some tea? It is about time to be stirring, anyway.” 

“Yes,” Mara said, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. Belatedly, she added, “Please,” even though Ravi hadn’t shot her any sort of look. 

Who knew the kids knew manners?

“I never even met Grandfather,” Attie said, bouncing over to sit next to Jason, all a little too cheerfully for 6 in the morning, or whatever time it was. And after such a heavy fucking conversation. 

“I know,” he replied anyway, “I’m glad.” 

“Me too. He sounds mean.” 

Jason laughed and put his arm around her shoulder when she leaned up against him. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Mean was a fucking understatement. 

But it didn’t matter. Because they were _leaving._

In just a few hours, they’d be at the airport, boarding their plane to India. 

Damian never had to see that motherfucker again in his _life._ Jason was going to _make sure of it._

And if Ra’s al Ghul ever attempted to even _look_ at the kids again, Jason was going to shoot his body so full of lead not even the Lazarus Pit could save him. 

Actually, he was going to do that, anyway. Murder him, then bury him in pieces all over the world. Or maybe cremate him. Do _something_ so he could never be revived ever again. 

First, though, he was going to make sure these stupid kids made it to safety. If Ra’s had honestly told them shit like he could kill them whenever he wanted, it was unlikely any of them had _ever_ felt safe a day in their lives. 

Jason kind of knew what that felt like. His dangers and fears had always been a different sort, but he’d certainly grown up feeling unsafe, even in his own home. It wasn’t until he was living in the Manor had he know what _safety_ was. 

These kids deserved to feel that. To know what it was. No matter what Jason had to do, he was going to _ensure_ they got it. 

And, he was maybe starting to look forward to showing them what safety _was._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> casually slips in and drops a chapter like 3 weeks late on a random Saturday morning at 3am~~~~ 
> 
> Full disclosure, I had a TIME with this chapter. I've honestly been working on it at least every couple days this e n t i r e time. It was just difficult finding the balance between Jason's inner dialogue and Damian and Ravi's conversation. I'm not sure I'm happy with it, but I'm posting it so I can keep moving with the story. I might go back and do a revision of the book when I'm done with it, especially since the first 10 or so chapters have had multiple revisions already, since I wrote all that back in November. My work just looks a lot better after revisions. Heh. 
> 
> ANYWAY. Like I've said on Tumblr and in my other longfic, I'm putting this on a 'when it's done' update schedule. D: It's not hiatus, like my other longfics (save The Best Things, which is staying weekly), so don't worry, it's just inconsistent updates. I've just been super busy this month, and I have my vacation coming up. I'm hoping once I get back I'll be able to settle into a better routine and figure out when to do writing. 
> 
> And as always, thanks for reading and commenting and everything. <3 you guys.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

The morning passed a lot easier than Jason had been expecting. After Damian’s fit, he thought the brats would be absolutely unbearable as they attempted to finally leave Afghanistan, but nope. They were surprisingly bearable.

Mostly.

Athanasia cried as they said goodbye to Ravi. Jason felt bad, taking her away from him, but he couldn’t ask an old man finally free of that motherfu— _stupid_ cult to risk his life and freedom trying to raise who were basically the prince and princess of said cult. 

Also, that would still leave him with Mara, and no simple solution for where to ditch her…

At least with Athanasia and Damian there, it made perfect sense for Bruce to take Mara, too. Without them… he didn’t see a single reason Bruce would take her. Why would he put his neck on the line to protect some random kid from the League, when he had no obligation to her? And she didn’t even _want_ to be away from the League?

Then, obviously, it was a dumb idea to leave the kids right under Ra’s’ nose by leaving them with Ravi. That was just asking for trouble.

“Where are we going after New Delhi,” Mara asked, after Jason had paid the driver who brought them to the airport and they were finally out of stranger earshot, for however briefly it was until they entered the actual airport.

Damian and Athanasia trailed along behind Jason and Mara, and Jason tried his best not to snap at them about not letting him take up the rear.

They were in public. _At an airport._ It was probably the safest spot for them in the entire stupid country.

“I’ll tell you in New Delhi,” Jason said, waving a hand to swat off any protests the kids had about it.

Mostly, the answer was _I don’t know,_ but telling the kids shit like that never went over well.

“You are infuriating,” Mara grumbled, but thankfully didn’t argue further.

Jason grinned, as they reached the doors to the airport’s entrance and said, ‘I am aware, thanks,” as he opened the doors for the kids to go through. 

Passing through security was easier than Jason had been anticipating, but still outright frustrating. 

It wouldn’t be a trip to an airport without frustration, after all.

The first agent they encountered started interrogating them in Dari. Jason had no idea what he was asking, but Damian answered the first question with, “New Delhi,” so Jason could guess.

After a couple more questions, all of which Damian answered, the man raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Jason and asked one more question, looking down critically at Jason’s passport, which he held in his hand.

Damian answered in the negative, shaking his head, so the man help up a finger and called someone on his radio.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked the kids, in Arabic. Had they discovered the passports fake?

Were they too suspicious of a bunch of kids traveling internationally? Ravi had dressed them like rich tourists, so it wasn’t like they _looked_ suspicious. 

Had Damian said something stupid? Jason wouldn’t be surprised by that one.

“They’re getting an interpreter for you,” Mara said.

“Oh.” Great. He had kinda hoped they’d just smile and nod and let him through, and not bother trying to bridge the language gap.

The agent asked them to move to the side as they waited and continued checking people’s documents behind them, and Jason focused entirely on not looking suspicious as hell while they waited.

“When are we gonna get on the plane,” Attie asked, making Jason smile.

Leave it to her to make them look more like kids than anything.

“Once they call for boarding. We’ve got another hour or so. First they’re gonna search us.” 

Hopefully they hadn’t already searched their checked baggage and were going to interrogate them about the knives. Ravi _had_ done a good job making them look decorative, like collector’s items. 

Jason just wasn’t sure how to explain why they were bringing them in the first place.

Maybe he’d say ‘to sell them, if we need more money,’ or something. How believable would that be?

“Good morning,” a man said, as he approached them from behind. Once they turned around, he introduced himself as the interpreter and took their documents, like the first agent had done.

“Where are you going?” the interpreter asked first, in a dialect of Arabic Jason knew enough to be able to follow.

The League’s dialect was unique, but not far off from the academic version taught in many schools.

“India,” Jason answered, offering an easy smile as he shifted into an easy stance, “New Delhi, for sure.”

“What are your plans?”

Jason shrugged casually, still smiling, but trying to look more excited, “Explore the city, I want to see some of the bigger things around the country, too. Like the Taj Mahal.” 

“No,” Damian groaned, and if Jason hadn’t been taught how to not by Batman, he would have startled, “I keep telling you that it is way too touristy. I want to see the Red Fort.” 

Jason had no idea what the Red Fort was, but the interpreter smiled and said, ‘I have seen that. It was certainly worth the trip.”

“Is it _really_ red?” Mara asked, and the interpreter smiled wider.

After that they were only asked quick questions about when they were returning, and whether they knew anyone in India.

“Two weeks,” and “No,” were Jason’s answers, and they were allowed to move on toward the x-ray machines. The interpreter did follow them, but kept up a conversation with Damian and Mara about all the fun things he had done during his most recent trip to New Delhi.

Athanasia put her hand in Jason’s and squeezed it tightly as they got in line, and kept Jason between her and the interpreter.

The interpreter certainly noticed, but he must have assumed she was nervous, because he smiled and said, “Don’t worry, the x-rays don’t hurt. They just take pictures.”

“Yep,” Jason agreed, squeezing Attie’s hand back as he smiled at her,” and they do this to keep us all safe.”

“Safe from what?” Athanasia whispered, just barely loud enough the interpreter heard her.

The interpreter gave her a gentle smile as he explained, “A lot of things. It’s just to make sure bad guys don’t try to get on the plane, and so we can keep dangerous things off. Like things that can cause accidental fires.” 

“Like cigarettes,” Jason said.

Attie nodded, and watched carefully as Mara and Damian put their backpacks on the belt first. Jason let go of her hand, then motioned for her to follow. 

Thankfully, none of the brats had tried to smuggle actual weapons through, because none of their bags were flagged for further searching, and their ‘library cards,’ apparently looked legit enough in their various wallets they each had in their bags. 

“You’re all set,” the interpreter said, once they’d all walked through the metal detector themselves, and been deemed ‘not a threat.’ “Will you need any help at the gate?” 

“No, thanks,” Jason said, as he handed each kid their bag, “I think we can figure it out ourselves.”

“Excellent. But if you do need further assistance, you can ask the gate staff and they’ll call down one of us again.”

Jason thanked him, and they all bid him farewell, before Jason looked down at the stack of tickets in his hand. “Okay. This way.” 

Damian rolled his eyes, and reached for the tickets in Jason’s hand. When Jason pulled it up out of his reach, he stomped his foot and said, “One of those is _mine.”_

“I don’t want you to lose it,” Jason said, trying to start walking. Damian got right in front of him, though, and scowled.

“I won’t _lose_ it,” he snapped, “How can I trust _you_ not to lose it? I wish to know when the flight is and from where it is departing.”

“You could always _ask_ me for that information,” Jason said, as he went around Damian and started toward their gate. The girls quickly followed, and Jason decided the other brat could either follow, or he could keep throwing a fit and have security tell him to follow. 

Jason hoped he wasn’t stupid enough to draw that much attention to them…

“I’m pretty sure if we lose them they’ll just print us new ones,” Mara said, from where she’d hurried to catch up and walk beside Jason, on the opposite side from where Attie was walking, one of her hands clutching Jason’s shirt. 

“Fine,” he huffed, as he looked down and figured out which ticket was which, “but if you idiots lose them I’m never letting you forget it.” 

Mara and Damian both took their tickets, but Athanasia just stared at him, her little eyes opened wide. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

She looked at him for a solid second, before she shook her head and said, “Nothing.”

Because. Right.

That made fucking sense. Kid was clearly terrified, but whatever.

“I’m not gonna, like, hurt you if you lose it,” Jason tried.

But it didn’t make Attie look less scared. 

All it _did_ do was cause Damian to say, “Yes, therefore we should be afraid of you _because?”_

“Just come on,” Jason grumbled, tucking his and Attie’s ticket into his pocket. 

The kids _shouldn’t_ be afraid of him, but he was fairly certain that at least Damian, and possibly both Damian and Mara wouldn’t listen to him if they weren’t at least a _little_ scared of him…

Fuck the fucking League of Assassins. 

Athanasia forced her hand into Jason’s as they walked, so he squeezed it as they walked. 

At their gate, Jason looked around and found a bench that was relatively secluded from the rest of the seating area, and led the brats to it. It was close enough they’d be able to hear all the announcements from the gate, or, well… Damian and Mara would be able to hear them and translate them… but far enough away Jason didn’t feel like their every word was being overheard.

Didn’t mean they’d talk about anything incriminating, but at least a little comfort to his mind that their conversation wasn’t being listened to by nosy neighbors. 

He also couldn’t wait until they were someplace _he_ spoke the language. So _he_ could understand everything going on around them.

Jason let go of Attie and slipped his backpack off, so he could deposit it on the ground in front of the bench, before he flopped down right in the middle of it, daring the kids to complain about that. 

Damian scowled at him, a little, and sat right on the edge of the bench, to Jason’s left, while Athanasia climbed up right next to Jason and curled up into his side. 

Not that he had expected any different, but it still made him frown at how she hid her face in his side.

“What’s wrong, Attie?” he asked, as he scooted her over a little, toward the edge so Mara could fit on the bench between Damian and Jason. Mara didn’t look thrilled about it, but she didn’t complain, either, as she sat down. 

“Nothing,” Athanasia mumbled, not even looking up.

“You’ve turned into little octopus,” Jason said, as he tapped at her leg gently, “clearly _something’s_ wrong.” 

Damian shifted, so he was leaning up against the wall behind them, and said, “There is no one to fear in this airport. The security measures are adequate enough to create moderate safety from anyone wishing us ill.” 

Jason wholeheartedly disagreed with that statement. He didn’t think there was _anything_ like ‘moderate safety.’ Yes, the airport was the _safest place_ in Afghanistan, but that didn’t mean it was anything close to safe. 

If the League really wanted to, they could easily attack the airport to get the kids back. But he _doubted_ they’d do that. The League liked subtle, and attacking an international airport in broad daylight was not subtle. 

But there was no way he was telling a scared seven-year-old that.

Athanasia leaned forward, just enough so she could see Damian and whispered, “But there are so many people here.”

Oh.

 _That_ was her problem.

Jason maybe kept forgetting she’d barely seen a handful of people in her entire life. He kind of very doubted Talia just dragged her around in public, in France. Seemed like a dumb thing to do if she didn’t want Ra’s to find out.

But now Ra’s knew about her. 

So Jason looked forward to walking her through larger airports, like London’s maybe. Or hell, even Atlanta’s or New York’s. _Or Gotham’s._

And cities. Lots of cities with tourists all over. Trains and buses and people _everywhere._

“Don’t worry about them,” Jason said, “It’s rude to stare at people, so none of them will be staring at us, or paying us any attention.” 

_And school._

One day she and the other two brats would go to _school_ and get to meet lots of kids their age. 

That… that was good. School was important. 

Kids should get to go to school… 

“Really?” Athanasia asked, so Jason nodded. 

“Yeah, so you don’t have to try and hide.” 

Surely Bruce would send the kids to school, if Jason brought them to him. _Surely._

Jason could understand being a little concerned about the other children, and maybe worried the League would track them down to the school and attack them there, but it’d probably be okay… 

Fuck the League attacking a school would be _awful._

But the kids deserved to go to school… 

“Do we really have to sit here for an hour,” Mara grumbled, pulling Jason back to the present. 

“Yeah,” he said, leaning down so he could dig out his book from his backpack, “That’s why we brought books, right? So why don’t you runts pull them out and start reading.” 

Jason’s book was an old copy of a James Patterson book Ravi found while out shopping for them. Based on the blurb on the back, it appeared to be something like the _twentieth_ book in a series… that Jason hadn’t read. 

Which was bound to be interesting. Jumping in so far in.. 

It must have been the only book in English Ravi could find. 

_Another_ thing Jason looked forward to was an actual bookstore. With books. In a language he could read. 

Based on the grumbling the older two kids made, when they pulled their books out, they likely agreed with Jason’s thoughts.

They’d have to find a bookstore in India, for sure. 

“You expect me to actually read this drivel,” Damian asked, holding his book up scornfully for Jason to see. 

Jason had no idea what the book was about, since it was in, what Jason assumed, was Dari. Whatever it was, however, did look like a classic children’s chapter book, just like the ones Jason used to read when he was in 1st or 2nd grade. 

“Yep,” Jason said, grinning widely. He looked forward to watching Damian read a children’s book. 

It probably had jokes in it.

He wondered if Damian even knew how to laugh at jokes. 

“But—“ Damian started, but Jason cut him off.

“We’re basically on a mission, Damian,” he whispered, “And part of your mission is to look like an eight-year-old. You know what eight-year-olds do?”

Damian must have known exactly where Jason was going, because he scowled. 

“That’s right,” Jason said brightly, “they read ‘drivel.’ So start reading.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Damian mumbled, as he opened the book to the first page. Well, to Jason it looked like the last page, but that was the neat thing about languages that read right to left. The books were backward. 

“I’m gonna quiz you on it later,” Jason hummed, as he opened his own book and settled down to start reading. 

Damian huffed, and bit back with, “You will not.” 

“Will so, just wait.” He wasn’t quite sure how to quiz Damian on a book he couldn’t read and had no idea what it was about, but he could figure it out. 

Maybe by just asking basic book report questions. Who was the main character? What was the setting? That sort of thing.

Jason could totally do that. 

It would be the perfect way to distract them and keep them from fighting, later on, too. 

“This is ridiculous,” Damian grumbled again, but he kept reading. Both the girls, likewise, pulled books from their backpacks and settled down to read some, meaning Jason was able to relax a little more.

Even though he was still on high alert, paying close attention to his peripherals and listening to everything around him, he was able to slightly lose himself in the world of James Patterson. Just enough that the hour seemed to fly by.

And once their plane started boarding, the kids quietly gathered their things and went with Jason to board. 

The moment Jason’s feet landed on the plane’s carpet, he could feel his shoulders relax, just a touch more. He knew they still had a long-ass journey ahead of them, but at least everything was working out for the moment. The kids weren’t fighting, no one was questioning whether they _were_ tourists, and they were _finally_ leaving Afghanistan.

Jason could cry, and possibly hug the plane. Instead, he just chose a middle seat in their middle row of four, and let the kids all sit down around him, somehow without squabbling. In just a couple hours, they’d be in India. And Jason could figure out their exact plan for getting to the US. 

_Finally._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I have nothing to say for myself. So. Uh, thanks for reading? 😬


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids have landed in New Delhi. Now what?

The flight lasted about two hours. 

Jason spent its entirety reading his book. Or, rather… looking like he was reading his book. It was difficult to stay focused with three little brats to keep track of. 

Not that they were doing much. Mara sat there stiffly most the flight, in the aisle seat to Jason’s right. She was staring down at her book, but considering she hadn’t turned a page in ages, Jason knew she wasn’t reading.

Jason had at least got half way through his book. Mara was only about seven pages in. He knew she should probably say something, or maybe ask her what was wrong, but he could probably guess the answer to that question. And he wasn’t particularly keen on arguing with her about defecting on an international flight. Where they would very quickly be arrested. 

Or maybe she was just anxious about leaving the country, and it had nothing to do with the defection. If Daman was right, and she really had never left Nanda Parbat….. Yikes. 

Jason had been nervous the first time he left his home country, too. But Bruce had been there… to talk him through it… 

Nope. Jason was not talking to her. He just knew it would lead to a fight. 

Instead, he chanced a glance to his left, at the other to brats, and found them both exactly how they’d been the whole flight, too. Attie was basically the opposite of Mara in every facet. She was twisted around in her seat so she was leaning back against Jason, her own book resting on her knees. Jason wasn’t sure _how_ she was comfortable, but he remembered curling up in weird ways as a child, too. At least she seemed to be enjoying her book, one that appeared to be designed for children learning English, far more than Mara. 

Meanwhile, Damian sat on the other side of Attie, slowly snacking on the trail mix portion they’d packed into his bag. Jason was fairly certain it was a strategy to avoid reading his book, but he didn’t care. Because for the moment, the kids were _quiet._

And they were quiet, the whole flight. It was pure heaven. Jason was sure he could deal with the kids, if they were that quiet the entire rest of the trip. 

But clearly that wasn’t going to happen. 

Because the very second Jason grabbed their checked back from the baggage carousel, Mara turned to him and said, “We are in New Delhi now. Where are we going next?” 

“So impatient,” Jason grumbled, as he slung the duffle over his shoulder, “First, we’re going to eat lunch.” 

“You’re infuriating,” Mara exclaimed, stomping her foot before she scrambled to follow Jason toward one of the exits. 

Athanasia grabbed Jason’s hand and plastered herself to his side, as they walked, so he looked down and smiled at her before he said, “I am, thanks.” 

Mara growled frustratedly and demanded, “Do you even know where we’re going?” 

“No, he doesn’t,” Damian said, much more dully, as he just followed along, walking on Jason’s other side, “if he knew, he would have told us days ago.” 

“Of _course_ I know where we’re going,” Jason said flippantly, rolling his eyes at both of them. They were going to America. 

America was an actual place. Even if a very big one… and Jason wasn’t sure _where_ in America…

Was anywhere _other_ than Gotham even an option, though? 

“Then tell us,” Mara demanded, as Jason opened the door and ushered the kids outside. Mara’s loathsome glare was enough to make anyone crack.

Or. Anyone who cared what an annoying eight-year-old thought of them. 

Jason didn’t, so he rolled his eyes and motioned for her to walk outside, again. When she finally did, only after growling a little, Jason grinned and said, “What do you brats want for lunch?”

That question, of course, only led to more arguing. Damian and Mara started going at it, waffling between fighting over where to actually eat, and whether the entire argument was just a distraction from the _real_ problem at hand, the fact that Jason was _incompetent_ and probably leading them to their deaths. 

Athanasia tightened her hold on Jason’s hand, and whispered, “Do we have to walk all day again?”

“No,” he said, squeezing her hand back. He kind of wished he could figure out what her anxieties were, and ease them… but it was kind of hard. Considering they could be found at any moment… 

“Actually, let’s get a taxi and go find a hotel, first, then we can go from there.”

“Because we’ve had great luck with hotels thus far,” Damian grumbled, as Jason hailed a taxi. 

“Shut up,” he said, as a taxi stopped and the driver asked them where they were going, in English.

Jason tried his best to put on a thick Afghani accent as he asked, “We need a hotel. Do you have any recommendations?” 

His accent most definitely missed the mark, if Mara’s critical glare meant anything, but the driver bobbed his head up and down and said, “Yes, yes, I know several. Very nice,” so clearly he hadn’t noticed. 

It wasn’t like _Afghani_ was an accent many encountered on a daily basis. And considering the country was so large, there was probably a zillion accents. So yeah. He was probably fine.

“This one better have hot water,” Damian mumbled in Arabic as he climbed into the car, before Mara followed. Jason tossed their duffle bag in, letting it settle down at the brats’ feet before he climbed in and let Attie climb up on his lap. 

It was awkward and uncomfortable, all four of them squeezed in with their backpacks, but the drive didn’t take more than five minutes, before the driver pulled over in front of a hotel that looked _far_ more like what Jason was accustomed to, back in the U.S. 

The name on the side of the building even said _Raddison,_ which he knew was a chain back home, too. It was big. It was familiar. And it was clearly meant for tourists.

He could definitely cry.

Hopefully the inside was more normal, too. With private rooms and bathrooms and far too many people to be noticed. 

Jason just wanted to relax and sleep in a bed for once. That’s all he wanted.

“Usually 2,500 a night,” the driver said, as he put the car in park, “very nice.” 

_Like, $35,_ Jason thought, as he nodded and pulled his wallet out. That was so fucking _cheap._ He paid the driver his fee and a decent tip, glad to have already exchanged for rupees at the airport, and said, “Thank you,” before he opened the door and basically pushed Athanasia out of his lap and outside. 

He was _so_ ready to get a room. 

Maybe they could even order some food in? If the room was cheap, how expensive was room service?

Bruce used to always order room service, when he took Jason with him on trips. The meals would easily cost 40 or 50 bucks a plate, and it usually made Jason sick just thinking about it. But _those_ hotels usually cost, like, $500 _a night._

$35 was _way_ more reasonable. 

Once the kids were all out and they’d collected up their bags, they made their way inside and to the front desk. And, to Jason’s delight, the room ended up only costing _2000_ rupees. He used his new card to pay, and happily led the kids up to their room, on the _seventh_ floor. 

The hotel was so huge. It should be easy for them to blend right in and go completely unnoticed.

“This is acceptable,” Damian said, once Jason pushed the door open and ushered the kids inside, “Could be better.” 

“ _Could be better,”_ Jason repeated, under his breath. He was pretty sure only Attie heard him, because she grinned, but didn’t otherwise react. Damian didn’t try to stab him, so he definitely didn’t hear. 

Jason did a quick sweep of the room with his eyes, before he stepped fully in and shut the door behind him, locking it as he did. 

The room _was_ ‘acceptable.’ 

More than that. 

Because it had _two_ beds. _Two._ With plenty of pillows and extra blankets sitting on a shelf next to the bathroom door. 

“I’m sleeping in one of the beds tonight.” Jason said, as he crossed the room to set his bags down on the desk. Because the room had a desk _and_ a TV, sitting on top of a dresser. 

They didn’t need the dresser, but it was cool that the room had one, anyway.

Plus. _TV._ Maybe the brats could watch Spongebob or something, and leave Jason the fuck alone. 

Damian and Mara shared a look with each other, so Jason added, “I don’t care who shares with me, but I don’t want any fucking fighting over this.” 

“I’ll share with you,” Attie said, immediately. Which wasn’t a shock at all. 

Of course the octopus would want to share with him. 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, “This will _end_ once we arrive in the United States, correct? I will receive my own quarters?” 

With a shrug, Jason unzipped his backpack and pulled out his book and a change of clothes. “Probably.” 

On his way over to the beds, he kicked off his boots and let them sit on the ground, right next to where he’d sleep. They’d go out again, of course, but not for a few hours at least. He’d decided they were definitely eating lunch in the room. He didn’t even care what the brats thought about that. 

Jason chose the spot closest to the window, to be _his_ side of the bed. Not that he expected Attie to respect it… It was the only bed with line of sight to the door, since the bathroom’s wall blocked the other bed from sight. _Plus,_ it would put him between the window and the brats, should that end up being an issue. So he set his book down, next to the pillow, and grabbed the room service menu off the night stand.

“What do you mean _probably?”_ Mara said, a little mockingly, “I thought you know where we’re going.”

“Shut up,” Jason grumbled, as he passed the menu over to Attie. She’d also kicked her shoes off and climbed up on their bed, and was sitting there, hugging tight to her kitty. 

“I’m gonna take a shower—“ he started, just for Damian to cut in.

“Good, you need one.” 

“—so you _brats_ figure out what you want for lunch off that menu. I’ll order it when I’m done.” 

“Let me see that,” Damian said, as Jason was walking into the bathroom. He chose to absolutely ignore how he added, “You probably can’t even read it.” 

_“I can so,”_ Athanasia huffed in response, “Jason said we _all_ have to pick.” 

Jason just shut the door, and flipped on the fan. He could still hear the brats, and knew they were out there. Alone. Safe and sound. But at least he didn’t have to hear every little word. 

_Finally._

He spent more time than strictly necessary in the shower.

Granted, it wasn’t more than ten minutes, but the hot water felt so _good_ on his sore muscles. And his hair really needed the extra attention, getting all the grime out. In fact, he used the entire bottle of shampoo the hotel supplied them, so he’d have to add a bottle of it and soap to their shopping list, for sure. If he expected the rest of the kids to wash their hair, too. 

But, reluctantly, he cut off the water and stepped out. The whole room had filled with steam, and was blissfully warm. Not in the miserable desert sort of way, but more in the way of a relaxing sauna. Like the one in the batcave they rarely ever used. Always so relaxing, after a rough workout. 

Jason wiped the mirror clear of fog, and started fussing with his hair. 

The pit had done something weird to it. Or perhaps it was the whole, death thing. He wasn’t sure. But where he’d had curly black hair as a kid, now he had straight hair, with a white stripe right over his eyes. It was a little unnerving. 

Almost as unnerving as the silence, just outside the bathroom. Had the kids been that quiet for long?

With his comb half way down the back of his hair, Jason hastily hit the fan’s switch, and could have sighed in _relief._

Because the kids were chatting away. Just in normal, inside tones. For probably the first time in their entire lives. 

And by chatting, Jason was pretty sure they were actually arguing. Mara and Damian, of course. Because Mara snapped, “Why would we come to India to eat _Chinese_ food?”

“Because, I _like_ Chinese food,” Damian shot back. 

Athanasia’s voice was missing from the mix, but based on how both kids shut up for a second, then shot back _“We are not getting sandwiches,”_ he figured she was just too quiet to hear. 

Great. 

Jason went back to combing out his hair, content to put off dealing with the kids for just a touch longer. They were clearly fine.

Plus. It was a little funny that they seemed to think they had to _agree_ on lunch. They didn’t have to _agree._ They could each get their own thing. 

Finally, though, Jason had combed through his hair four times and gotten fully dressed, and couldn’t put it off any longer, so he opened the door and shut off the light.

“Okay, what does everyone want,” he asked, as he plucked the menu from Damian’s hands and collapsed back on the bed. The menu was actually pretty long, so he started skimming through it.

“We want hot garlic vegetable stir fry,” Damian immediately said, earning a betrayed look from Mara.

“No,” she said, “chicken chettinad.”

Before the scowls the two of them instantly leveled at each other could progress to actual stabbing, Jason nodded and said, “Okay. That’s stir fry for Damian, and chicken whatever for Mara. Attie, what do you want?” 

“We’re getting both?” Mara asked, as she sat down on the other bed, and clearly tried not to smile a little at the thought. 

“ _Everyone_ is eating,” Jason said, with a roll of his eyes, “I’m not gonna starve you brats, geez.” He looked over at Attie, to where she’d crawled up next to him, and raised an eyebrow. 

“Can I have a tomato and cheese sandwich?” she asked, her voice just as soft and sweet as ever. 

How did Talia ever say no to this child, he wondered, as he said, “Yeah, cool.”

The menu was freaking _long._ No wonder the kids took ten minutes to argue over what they wanted, because there were that many pages _filled_ with options. And it was separated out by regions. So there was an Indian kitchen, of course, as well as a ‘Pan-Asian’ kitchen, where Damian had found his Chinese food. To Jason’s delight, there was a western kitchen, with all the foods he was used to seeing on menus, back home. 

“Garlic bread,” he exclaimed, while browsing over the appetizers from the western kitchen. They were _definitely_ getting garlic bread. “And _buffalo burgers?_ Fuck yeah.” 

He hadn’t fully realized how much he _missed_ food from back home, until he was finally able to eat it. 

“Anything else?” he asked, as he sat up and reached for the phone. He was going to call it in, and then watch TV. That was the plan.

“Rice?” Damian asked, as he finally kicked off his own shoes and climbed up into his and Mara’s bed. 

With all the kids starting to settle in a little better, Jason called in the order. 

The woman on the phone asked if they wanted drinks, which Jason hadn’t even _thought_ about. He would have killed for a Coke to go with his burger, but soda wasn’t even on the menu, so he settled for a thing of juice and a thing of water. Anything they didn’t finish, they could store in the _fridge,_ that was hidden under the desk in their room. 

Jason kinda wanted to just stay there for a few days. Relax and decompress after that hell of a hike and escape from Afghanistan. 

But, logically, he knew that was the worst thing they could do. Getting comfortable and complacent now would only get them killed. 

So they would have to get moving again in the morning. Get their papers and shit that afternoon, and cement their travel plans into place. 

For the moment, however, Jason clicked on the TV and started flipping through the channels. Just because _tomorrow_ was going right back to the on-the-go momentum, that didn’t mean their afternoon had to be shit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo. Sorry for the long wait. I'm going to try and update this a little more often, at least until I get part one done. I don't know how many chapters out I am from that, but it's not like another 20, so that's good. Haha. 
> 
> Thanks for putting up with the random hiatuses, and thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter Twenty

The food took a little while to arrive. Jason didn’t mind, though, because he found _Stuart Little_ playing on some random channel, that looked like it was playing English kid movies. 

He’d never been overly fond of kid movies, when he was a kid. They had a TV when he was little, and often borrowed DVDs from the library, but even then he’d never picked out stuff like _Stuart Little._

Bruce watched shit like that with him, though. For the first little while he lived with Bruce. Right up until Jason gathered the courage to tell him he would rather watch terrible action movies, with lots of explosions or car crashes, or even documentaries. 

A lame kid movie was enough to keep the brats occupied, though. 

Actually, all three kids were absolutely glued to the television, once he’d stopped flipping through the channels. They were staring at the screen like they’d never even _seen_ a television before.

Which…

Okay. Maybe they hadn’t. Or had only very rarely had access to TV… 

But they kept mostly to themselves. At least… the girls did.

Damian took offense to the movie almost immediately. It didn’t help that they’d started twenty minutes in, of course. But he did not, at all, understand why a family would adopt a _mouse._

Which, fair, but when he then went on a big long rant about how it was only _logical_ the biological son be so disgusted the parents adopted a literal _rat,_ Jason kind of wanted to tape his mouth shut.

“Was he that terrible a son that his parents felt the need to look outside their blood, to find an adequate heir?” he’d said

“That’s not why people adopt,” Jason said, idly as he refused to get all worked up over it. 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, “Let me guess. You think people adopt children _because they love them,”_ echoing back his exact words over why people had children, in general. “They do not love a _rat_ they found. No person _loves_ a thing they randomly find.”

All Jason could do was grit his teeth. “It’s just a movie,” he grumbled, as he crossed his arms. 

Whether that was true or not… Jason really didn’t know. It certainly _felt_ like he was loved, when he was little and newly adopted. But clearly he’d been wrong… 

_He’d_ loved Bruce and Alfred, that most certainly hadn’t been fake. 

“Are all movies illogical,” Mara asked, pulling Jason back. He didn’t need to be wasting his relaxing time thinking about Bruce fucking Wayne. Especially since he was sure Bruce never spent _any_ time thinking about him. 

“Uh, no not all,” he said, rubbing at his eye for a second, “but you’re supposed to suspend your disbelief when watching stuff, anyway, and ignore the illogical stuff. Makes it way more enjoyable.” 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, but Mara nodded seriously, and went right back to being _glued._

“I think Stuart is cute,” Attie said, grinning wide at Jason when he looked over. 

“He is a _rat,”_ Damian protested, but it didn’t change Athanasia’s mind in the least.

Because she turned her grin on Damian and said, “He is a cute rat.” 

To Jason’s immense relief, someone knocked on the door before Damian could retort with whatever scathing thing.

They were supposed to be _relaxing._ Not _fighting._

Or. Whatever the fuck they were doing. Being little assholes. 

Jason hopped up and walked over to the door, to answer it when the guy outside knocked again and announced he had their food. With a quick look out the peep hole, Jason confirmed it really was a hotel employee and opened the door for him. 

“Hey, thanks,” he said, as the guy immediately pushed the cart right into their room, making Jason take a step back and just… allow it to happen.

Jason didn’t particularly _want_ the guy in their room, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Denying him entry into the room would just look suspicious. 

The very last thing they needed was any scrutiny. 

He delivered the food quickly, though, and Jason slipped him a tip on his way out. He wasn’t really sure if it was expected, but Bruce always tipped the room service people, no matter where they were in the world. 

“There’s so much,” Attie said, as he stared wide eyed at all the plates on the rolling cart it’d come in on. 

“Yeah,” Jason agreed, as he picked up the plate with the sandwich and handed it to her. There really _was_ a lot of food. The sandwich was a decent amount… for an adult. It also came with fries and a salad, and Athanasia put some of both things on her plate. It would probably be way too much for Attie to finish, but Jason didn’t see a problem with that. 

Too much food was way preferable to not enough… 

And they definitely had too much food. What the other two kids ordered looked to be enough to feed _all_ of them. Plus the side dish of rice, the garlic bread, _and_ Jason’s beautiful looking burger. 

“We can put what we don’t eat in the fridge and finish it off for dinner.”

The kids each fixed themselves a plate of their chosen food, and added rice or garlic bread, or both, in Mara’s case, and retreated to the far end of the room, by the windows. There wasn’t much seating in the room, other than the beds, the desk chair, and a single armchair with a small table next to it, but apparently they kids didn’t care. Because they all sat right on the floor, facing the windows, and started eating. 

Jason would have been cool with eating on the beds, but whatever, he thought, as he piled a few slices of garlic bread high on his plate, next to his burger and fries. His meal _also_ came with a salad, which was great and all. But Jason was more interested in the garlic bread. 

He’d eat the salad later. For dinner, maybe. 

Sitting down right in the middle of the kids, between where Damian and Mara, Jason took a large bite of a piece of garlic bread and said, through his food, “I guess we should make plans for the rest of the day.” 

“I see Father did not teach you manners,” Damian scoffed. 

“Nah,” Jason said. He swallowed his bite of food before he added, “ _Alfred_ was the one who cared about manners. ‘Father _’_ didn’t care.” Bruce even broke Alfred’s etiquette rules…. When Alfred wasn’t around to see, of course. 

“Who is Alfred,” Mara asked, as she pushed some of her rice around on her plate, letting it soak up some of the juices from her chicken before she took a bite. 

“He was…” Jason started, but paused. He was _not_ about to tell kids who had literal _slaves_ growing up that Alfred was a butler… 

They’d take that literally. 

“Did you know Bruce’s parents died when he was a kid?” he asked, wondering how Damian was gonna take the fact that his own _dad_ had basically been adopted. And that man was a big part of his life, still. 

“Bruce?” Damian asked.

“ _Dad,”_ he exasperated. He probably shouldn’t be telling the kids Bruce’s name, anyway. 

Just in case they got _stupid_ and ran off in an attempt to find him themselves. He didn’t _care_ if they ditched him for Bruce, not really. As long as Bruce wasn’t an _asshole_ and actually protected them, but he did not, at all, trust two eight-year-olds, or, rather, _Damian_ to safely make it to Bruce on his own. 

Even if he _could_ find where Bruce lived. 

Which anyone with internet could… 

Damian frowned, but finally said, “No, I did not know that.” 

“Well, they did. He… he was your age, actually. When it happened. And uh,” Jason paused, and internally cursed himself for bringing up _parent death._ He was a fucking _idiot._

He supposed that was something the kids now had in common with Bruce… And Dick. And Jason… 

Did _Tim Drake_ have that in common with all of them, too?

Probably. If Bruce was able to adopt him. 

“And?” Mara pressed, completely ignoring how both the other kids’ faces had completely soured. 

But maybe Jason could distract them, so he continued, “And Alfred raised him, after that happened. He still lives with Dad, and he helped raise us. He was the real boss, actually. If Alfred tells you to do something, you do it, no questions asked.” 

“Hm,” Damian said, as he took another bite of his stir fry. Jason waited, for several long seconds, expecting him to say more but he _didn’t._

So Jason said, “Yeah. But anyway, like I was _saying,_ we gotta make our plan for the day.” 

“Yes, and we should plan where we are _going_ from here,” Mara drawled. 

“First we gotta get our documents,” Jason said. It’d probably be easier to plan all that, once they had those in their hands. 

Damian perked up, and asked, “Will these be our American passports?” 

Jason shook his head. “I don’t think so. Talia’s note said they’re German.” 

“So we’re going to Germany, then,” Mara said, nodding. 

“Probably,” he said, picking up his burger to take a _magnificent_ bite. It wasn’t _quite_ the same as how he remembered burgers being, but it was absolutely delicious. 

Amazing.

But they’d have to go to Germany eventually, to pick up the next set of documents, so it just made sense to go straight there.

Although they could always skip Germany and go straight to England, for their U.S. passports… 

He doubted Ra’s knew where they were going, exactly, but straying from Talia’s plan wouldn’t be a _terrible_ idea. 

“Okay,” Jason said, after he’d finished off his whole burger, and just had his fries and two pieces of garlic bread left, “So plans for today. We need to go shopping, for sure.”

“Why,” Mara whined, “What could we possibly need?”

“For one, I need a new book,” Jason shot back. He pointed at the book sitting on the nightstand behind, “This one sucks.” 

“Why can you have a new book, but I can’t? Mine is worse than yours,” Damian said, scowling hard at Jason.

Damian hadn’t even _read_ his book, there was no way he knew it was _worse_ than James Patterson. But Jason shrugged and said, “You can get a new book, too.” 

“Me too?” Mara asked, the same question being echoed on Attie’s pleading face. 

He wasn’t gonna _deny_ the kids books, for crying out loud. Especially if they’d keep them quiet on planes. Or in hotels. Or, just. In general.

Jason liked it when the kids were quiet. 

“Yeah, of course. Each of you can pick out a new book.” When Attie smiled, and Mara nodded once, apparently satisfied, Jason continued, “Okay. We should also pick up some more snacks, we’re running low.” 

“You said we could get more trail mix,” Mara reminded him.

“Yeah, whatever, I don’t care what we get.” They could get straight up _candy,_ if it kept them happy. “Then we need to pick up our documents.” 

“Where’s that?” Damian asked, as he finished off his last bite of stir fry. He hadn’t even _tried_ a piece of garlic bread. 

Jason might force him to try some garlic bread. Clearly he _liked_ garlic if he got a stir fry with _garlic_ in the name. 

But as for _where_ the documents were, he knew they were on the other side of town, pretty much, from where their hotel was. It was down near the river, hidden away in a mailbox… 

“I’ll show you,” Jason said, as he started in on his fries. 

Mara groaned at him, of course, but none of them kept pressing him. 

And, in fact, they quit talking all together as they all finished off their food. Once Jason was done, he hopped up and went about consolidating the food down as best he could, and used some of the empty plates to cover the full ones to put in the fridge. They ended up having more than half of Mara’s chicken and Damian’s stir fry left, enough rice for all four of them to eat it again, almost all the salad left, and three pieces of garlic bread.

“Damian, you should try a piece of garlic bread,” Jason said, as he picked a slice up and shoved it at Damian, “this stuff doesn’t keep well, anyway. Gotta eat it fresh.” Although Jason most certainly wouldn’t turn it _down,_ they weren’t going to be able to carry around much food, anyway. What they had they needed to eat before they left. Which was likely going to be in the morning. 

“It is just butter and garlic on a slice of bread,” Damian said, grimacing. He tore the bread in half and gave it a very skeptical look Jason kind of found amusing.

“Yeah but it’s really good,” Attie said, as she bounced over to the table, “Can I have another one?”

“Sure,” Jason said, passing her one of the two pieces left, “What about you, Mara? Want the last piece?”

“You do not want it?” Mara asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah. I ate like half the loaf, I’m good.” 

Mara gave him a _look_ he couldn’t quite interpret. Suspicious? But she made her way across the room and took the last piece of bread, then slowly ate it, so Jason chose to just ignore it. 

He poured the rest of the juice into their empty water bottles, and put that into the fridge, too, before he put all the empty dishes back onto the cart. He wasn’t _quite_ sure what to do with the cart, but Bruce always put their tray on the floor outside the room’s door, so that was _probably_ what he was supposed to do with the cart, too. Right?

Hopefully, because it was what he ended up doing. By the time he had the door shut and locked back, all the kids had finished their bread, so Jason clapped his hands together and said, “Okay. Backpacks. We need to reorganize our sh- _tuff._ Stuff.” 

The kids grumbled, a little, but all three of them grabbed their bags from where they’d ended up _everywhere,_ and set them down on Jason’s bed, right next to where he put their duffle bag and his own backpack.

“Dump it out,” he said, as he unzipped his bag and just dumped everything right onto the bed, quickly followed by the duffel bag. He wanted them to have actual helpful shit with them, as the wondered the city. Just the mere thought of going out without what meager weapons they had left, and some survival gear made him anxious.

He’d _never_ been one to enjoy wandering a city without what he needed to survive. It’d been something he had to _learn_ after Bruce adopted him, and then had completely unlearned it, pretty much instantly when he woke up, drowning in bright green water. 

Silently, Jason sorted out their blankets and sleeping mats, packing each one into the bottom of their bags. 

“Why are we brining our camping gear, we are not going to be camping out tonight,” Damian asked, scowling at Jason from where he’d climbed up on the bed, sitting in the middle of it and just _watching_ Jason pack.

Which actually was fine. He didn’t need little hands ‘helping’ him and messing everything up.

“No such thing as over prepared,” Jason mumbled. On top of the blankets, he put what meager snacks they had left, a water bottle, and full change of clothes for each of them. 

“What?” Damian asked, “There most certainly is, and this is it.”

“No,” Jason said, _trying_ for patient, but missing it by about seven miles, “there’s not.” 

He grabbed their passports and hid them away in his own bag, then looked around for Attie’s kitty.

“Yes, there is,” Damian replied, mimicking Jason’s tone, just as he found Kitty sitting on the nightstand, next to where Attie was going to sleep.

“It’s something Batman says, just shut up.” 

Athanasia climbed up on the bed next to Damian, and sat back with her back against her pillow. Jason held the cat to her, silently asking if she wanted to hold it, but she shook her head, so Jason place it at the top of her bag and zipped it up.

They most certainly could not leave Kitty anywhere. He was determined the dumb cat make it all the way to the U.S. with them.

He’d been particularly fond of a teddy bear, when he was a kid, after all. And knew the pain of losing it. 

“Father requires you carry supplies for camping while going shopping?” Damian asked skeptically, rolling his eyes as if he didn’t _believe_ Jason.

Damian was in for one hell of a shock, if he ever got to meet Bruce. 

“ _Father_ would in this situation, yes.” 

“Hm,” Damian hummed, but he looked thoughtful as he watched Jason split the knives up into four piles. Each of them would get three, which wasn’t _ideal,_ but it was way better than nothing. 

Jason passed a set of knives to Mara, first, who had chosen to sit on the desk chair behind him, “put these where you want them,” he said, as he then handed the other two brats their knives as well. 

As predicted, the knives all ended up on the kids bodies, not in their bags. 

Which was fine, because Jason hid his knives on his person, as well. 

He rifled through the supplies he had left, in a pile on the bed, and sorted it all back out. It was mostly camping supplies, like the GPS device, and plenty of extra clothes. He threw one more pair of socks in each of the bags, and put the GPS device in Damian’s, then folded all the clothes haphazardly, stuffing them back into the duffle bag.

There was no reason to carry their entire wardrobe, after all. Just a change of clothes each. 

“All right, you brats get ready to go,” he said, as he zipped up the duffle bag and looked around the room, “Use the bathroom, or whatever.” 

Damian jumped off the bed, and seemed to _race_ to get to the bathroom first, and Jason just rolled his eyes. The room wasn’t particularly large, but it did have plenty of hiding places, so he chose to hide their bag in the closet, tucked away behind the extra blankets that were stacked in there. It took refolding the blankets, so they could fit on the shelf in front of the bag, but if someone were just scanning the room quickly, they likely would not notice it.

“But we _are_ sleeping here, right?” Athanasia asked, as she put her boots on by shoving her feet directly into them. Without untying them, first… 

Jason could only grimace, and hold back his desire to tell her she’d just ruin the shoes faster, doing shit like that. That was something his dad would say, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to repeat anything _Willis Todd_ ever told him. 

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” he said, as he sat down and slipped his own boot onto his right foot, sure to tighten the laces up well. 

Attie nodded, then grinned brightly as she asked, “Can we watch another movie, later?” 

“If one’s on, sure,” he replied, huffing a little laugh as he did. Too bad he couldn’t afford an iPod, or whatever. Bruce had given him one of those not even a month into him living at the manor. Even though it had been an old one Bruce had laying around, Jason had thought it was the coolest thing ever.

Even if he’d never been a big TV person, being able to watch whatever he wanted on long car or plane rides had been great. 

“Will we have a TV in America?” Attie asked, as she kicked her feet together, “I hope we do.” 

“Uh, yeah.” Maybe. Probably.

It really depended on what the fuck he was doing… 

How in the fuck would _he_ be able to afford a TV, without going to Bruce? 

Or. Afford to do anything at all? 

He’d… not really thought about that. Which was dumb. 

Affording food was, like, the _toughest_ thing when he was a kid and supporting himself. Without resorting to… unpleasant jobs, it’d been near impossible. He’d nearly starved to death at least once.

Now he wasn’t ten and _tiny,_ either. It was much easier to steal when he was little and people thought twice about shooting him. Who wanted to shoot a kid that looked seven? Some gang members didn’t care, sure, but the vast majority of people _did._

Jason didn’t have that to his advantage anymore. 

And now he’d have to support both himself _and_ three brats. 

Was that even possible?

“Good,” Attie said, grinning wide, “Watching TV is fun.” 

“It was… acceptable,” Mara agreed, “but perhaps we can find something less ridiculous tonight.” 

“Oh, when we were in France we had a TV, and I used to watch it _all the time_ when Mama was busy _._ Sam Sam was my favorite show. Maybe we can find it!” 

“Was it in French? I doubt some French show is gonna be on TV here,” Jason said. But he could probably find _something_ all the brats would like.

Okay maybe not. He should just pick something _he’d_ like instead, and make them deal with it.

Athanasia opened her mouth to respond, but _finally_ Damian came out of the bathroom, so she quickly hopped up and over to the bathroom, announcing, “my turn,” as she went. 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, as he retrieved his boots from the floor and sat down to slip them on, properly, “I liked it better when she did not speak.” 

“Damian,” Jason groaned, dramatically falling backward on the bed he was sitting on. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be worrying about how he would possibly support three kids, and instead worry about how he was going to get them to America without murdering one of them, first.

Mostly Damian. Mara was a pain, too, but it was mostly Damian. 

Perhaps he should just dump them off on Bruce… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been feeling a bit insecure about my writing, which is why there was suddenly a long break on my fics on this account. My plan for February had been to post a new chapter to each of my longfics in a rotating manner, but then I got a lot of negative comments across several of my works from multiple people all in a very short period of time and it made me dread working on this or TBT, because I was just not looking forward to the next batch of criticism. 
> 
> So, I ask, please don't leave me negative comments. I don't want criticism, I don't want nit picking, and I don't want generally anything that's being critical of my work. I'm sorry if you don't like my writing, or think it could be better, but I only want that sort of feedback from my beta. Hearing it from readers just kills me. If it keeps up, I'm probably just gonna quit posting until I have a work done, then just dump it so I don't have to deal with it, which will actually make updates slower. So, yeah. I love comments, nice comments give me so much joy, so thank you everyone who leaves them. ❤️ I just don't want negative ones anymore, please.
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you guys enjoyed reading. I am going to try to get back into the swing of writing on this and The Best Things. I did manage to write well over 30k words already this month, I've just been focusing on other things.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come chat with me on Tumblr](https://cdelphiki.tumblr.com/)


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